


Life, Underwater

by wastetheyears



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Big Bang Challenge, College, Grief/Mourning, J-Squared, M/M, Misunderstandings, Presumed Dead, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2110659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wastetheyears/pseuds/wastetheyears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Despite the demands of swimming for their university, Jensen and Jared have a solid relationship build on half a lifetime of friendship. The last thing either of them expected was to have their perfect life together cut short by a tragic accident, leaving Jensen dead and Jared drowning in grief. In the midst of his despair, however, Jared soon realizes that everything is not as it seems. Another shocking revelation leaves Jared speechless and grasping to salvage the life he thought had become forever out of reach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Despite the demands of swimming for their university, Jensen and Jared have a solid relationship build on half a lifetime of friendship. The last thing either of them expected was to have their perfect life together cut short by a tragic accident, leaving Jensen dead and Jared drowning in grief. In the midst of his despair, however, Jared soon realizes that everything is not as it seems. Another shocking revelation leaves Jared speechless and grasping to salvage the life he thought had become forever out of reach.

Art by [dollarformyname](http://dollarformyname.livejournal.com/66433.html)

 

__________________________________

 

 

Jared has his priorities in life.

Swimming is a big one. He has been in the water since before he could walk, has taken to the pool in a way he never quite has to land. On dry land, he's awkward, has been ever since his growth spurt at fourteen left him with arms and legs so long and gangly he’s still trying to grow into them five years later. His mom has always joked that he's part fish, and in a way, she's right. He never feels at home anywhere quite as much as he does when he's in the water.

School's on the list somewhere, he guesses. One and a half semesters into college and he supposes it isn't too bad. Jared is on the swim team on a solid scholarship and his grades are more than decent.

More than swimming, more than school, more than anything else in his life, though, his priority is Jensen. Jensen has been his partner in crime since he was thirteen, swimming alongside him and helping him in securing gold at State their senior year. More than that, though, Jensen is his best friend. His boyfriend since they were sixteen. The love of his damn life, who would mock him endlessly if he said something so damn cheesy, but hell if it isn't true.

Possibly the only place Jared feels more at home than in the water is in Jensen's arms.

So, yeah. Jared has Jensen. He has swimming. He has school. And fuck if he doesn't love his life.

__________________________________

Jensen and Jared have a little place together off campus, a little nicer than most college students have their first time around, but not nice enough to really draw many compliments.

Their parents were split on the idea of them living together: Jared's parents pro and Jensen's parents less so. Jensen came out three years ago to his family, and Jared is convinced they are still waiting for the punchline, the “just kidding!” so that they can all laugh it off together and start planning for grandchildren. Jensen's mom has come around more than his father, who can't quite keep the disapproving look off his face any time Jensen and Jared are in a room with him.

“At least they didn't disown me!” Jensen always says whenever the topic comes up, plastering a fake smile on his face and acting like it all just runs off his back. Jared knows better, though, knows that Alan's approval has always meant more to Jensen than an entire case of gold medals ever could.

“He'll come around,” Jared always responds.

Jensen never looks quite convinced, but he nods anyway.

__________________________________

The first fight they had as a couple was while they were decorating their apartment.

It wasn’t over sheets or curtains or whether forest green and goldenrod were an attractive color palette for their new living room. It wasn’t over which bed at the Mattress Mart was most comfortable or whether the bedroom set Jared’s Aunt Jean gave them clashed with the oak trim in their room.

It was over whether they should adopt a cat named Deb.

A long day of flea markets and garage sales had landed them at a strip mall on the edge of town, a small gathering of stores and businesses punctuated by the large brick building of the Austin Humane Society.

It was a bad idea from the beginning. Jared had never been the type to leave a pet store without some animal in tow. In fact, he spent most of his childhood bringing various homeless animals to his front door, pleading his mom to let him keep countless flea-ridden dogs, bunnies, and, on one infamous occasion, sewer rats.

Jensen knew this. Still, he dragged him inside, past long walls of cages and crying animals. He stalled at a wall of meowing cats, of cages holding little balls of fur that stuck their paws out at their presence.

“No,” Jared said, shaking his head. He may love animals, but the exception was, and always had been, cats. After his friend’s cat nearly clawed Jared’s face off as a kid, he’d kept his distance.

“But look,” Jensen cooed, pointing at a small white and orange cat with brown stripes in the bottom cage, who stared back with wide green eyes.

“No.”

“But she’s so-“

“She’s a cat,” Jared said, arms firmly crossed at his chest. He wasn’t the most well-versed at telling Jensen “no”, but this he wasn’t budging on.

“She’s adorable,” Jensen insisted, placing his palm against the glass. “She likes you.”

Jared snorted, shooting the cat a glance. She was looking at Jensen, occasionally flitting looks in Jared’s direction.

“Her name is Deb,” Jared laughed, reading the tag secured to her cage. “Who the fuck names a cat Deb?”

“Mean Humane Societies who want to kill her?” Jensen said, shooting Jared a pleading look.

That earned him a glare. “Stop.”

“Her name is Deb. Debbie,” Jensen began, and Jared narrowed his eyes in his direction, wondering where he was going with this. “Like Little Debbies. You like those, right? Twinkies and shit?”

“That’s Hostess,” Jared corrected, sounding more petty than intended. “Think Zebra Cakes.”

“Yeah, Zebra Cakes.” Jensen was kneeling now, nearly on the same level as the cat, whose soft meow cut through layers of metal and glass. “She kind of looks like one, right?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Jared bristled, rolling his eyes.

“You like Zebra Cakes.”

“I neglect to see how liking Zebra Cakes relates to adopting a cat named Deb.”

Jensen looked up at him then, wide eyes pleading. “Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

They argued in the lobby of the Humane Society for a good fifteen minutes before Jared caved, leaving as the proud owner of a little cat named Deb.

He never could say no to Jensen.

__________________________________

So Jensen's kind of stupidly attractive. Jared knows it, Jensen knows it. Everyone with eyes knows it. It's just kind of one of those things that just is, and Jared can't really complain, except when he does.

Jensen is immune to the stares on the street, doesn't even notice them anymore. Jared does. He isn't possessive, really, not overly protective, but sometimes he is. Sometimes he just wants to lock himself away with Jensen, just the two of them, and be the only one who gets to look at Jensen that way.

It's not creepy, except in all the ways it kind of is.

There's this kid on the swim team at the U named Mark Sheppard, who Jared thinks is creepy in his own right. Mark is nice enough, a little offbeat and a decent swimmer. He isn't ugly either, with deep brown eyes, a cut jawline, and a lean body. He has this accent that somehow makes him ten times more interesting, an accent Jared has tried to mock on numerous occasions and never quite succeeded.

Mark is alright. If it weren't for his crush on Jensen and his complete inability to take a hint, he and Jared might be friends.

Mark leans in too closely. He looks at Jensen too long, watches him with a look of longing. Jared wants to punch the kid in the face, almost did when Mark slapped Jensen on the ass last week in congratulations of a job well done on relays.

“It's just a little crush, Jay,” Jensen sighs when Jared brings it up in bed one night, rolling his eyes like the fact they are having this conversation is completely ridiculous.

“I think we're past 'little crush', Jen,” Jared grumbles. “Pretty sure we're into full out creeper status.”

“You're crazy, man,” Jensen dismisses, shaking his head. And maybe Jensen is used to this sort of thing, is used to ignoring catcalls on the street and people watching him like they have the right, but Jared isn't. He isn't sure he ever will be.

“Dude, he just like ogles you the entire practice. Like you're a piece of meat,” Jared continues, never one to know when to stop. And, yeah, the fact that Mark spends half of practice staring at Jared's boyfriend kind of bothers him a little, especially when Jensen is wearing a Speedo so small little is left to the imagine. It's an invasion of the intimacy that should be left for the two of them, Jensen and Jared alone.

“A piece of meat,” Jensen repeats flatly, obviously trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, man. I'm surprised he hasn't drowned yet, staying under water to get a better look at your ass.”

“You're ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.”

“He is,” Jared defends lamely, lip jutting in a pout. Jensen lets out a noise, half amusement and half exasperation and rolls over to bury his head in his boyfriend's chest.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Jensen reassures him, voice muffled in Jared's shirt. “Seriously. Nothing.”

Jared takes the opportunity to rake his fingers over Jensen's back, to rub the back of his neck just below his hairline.

“I know.”

And, really, Jared does know. He and Jensen are the most solid thing he has in his life, the thing he's most sure about. If there is one thing in his life he doesn't worry about, it's the relationship he has with Jensen.

He doesn't worry. Except sometimes he does.

__________________________________

Misha is another teammate of theirs. Jared likes Misha, though. Misha has neither a crush on Jensen or a homophobic streak, which is actually an astonishingly difficult combination to achieve. He's more Jensen's friend than Jared's, but they get along swimmingly as well. Forgive the pun.

“We should make this a tradition,” Misha announces around a bite of Grasperson's, the best burger place in a ten block radius of campus. Jared nods enthusiastically, dipping a handful of his fries in a bath of ketchup before jamming them in his mouth.

“For sure,” he says, mouth also full, because one can't be expecting to mind his manners when the food is this good. Misha is jotting letters down on the crossword puzzle he's looking at, occasionally looking perplexed. The silence that settles in is companionable, welcomed after a long day at practice.

Jared sighs and stretches backward in his chair. His muscles ache and all he can think about is his coach's constant chorus of water and protein. Water and protein, people.

“Man, what crawled up Coach's ass and died today? He-”

Suddenly, Jared feels a firm grip on a fistful of his hair, gently yanking his head backwards to reveal a grinning Jensen looming overhead. He can't help but smile back as Jensen drops a quick kiss to his hairline before letting go, shuffling to plop in the chair between Misha and Jared.

“A ponytail, Jared. Really?” Jensen says teasingly in lieu of a greeting, one eyebrow perfectly arched. He bumps knees with him under the table, letting him know the comment is lighthearted.

“It's in my eyes,” Jared says defensively, fingers automatically reaching to touch his hair.

“There's this thing called a haircut, Jared,” Misha murmurs, not bothering to look up from his crossword puzzle. “You might want to consider one. It's reaching creepy proportions.”

“My hair is not creepy,” Jared protests, glaring at his friend.

“It's a little creepy,” Misha insists. “And even if it weren't creepy, it would probably be worth it just to get Coach to shut up.”

“It's true,” Jensen agrees, eyes bright with mischief. “He brings it up, like, twice a practice.”

“He does not.” Jared's protests are met with another raised eyebrow, this time from Misha. “It's, like, once a week. Maybe. At most.” Jensen laughs at that, earning a balled up straw wrapper pelted in his direction. Annoyingly enough, he dodges it with ease.

“Just think, Jared. It would cut so much off your time,” Misha quips, wide smile breaking his face like he just said something clever.

“Yeah, totally,” Jensen grins. “It would shave seconds off your times, for sure.”

“You guys are so clever,” Jared grumbles sarcastically, stabbing a french fry into the mound of ketchup on his plate. “I hate you both.”

“Aww, baby, you know you love me,” Jensen says, pulling him close for a quick peck on the lips.

“You guys are disgusting,” Misha says, but his heart isn't in it.

“Mmmhmm,” Jensen hums, snaking one of Jared's fries. Jared feigns annoyance, but really, he couldn't care less.

He'd give Jensen the world, if he could.

__________________________________

The alarm goes off the next morning at a way-too-early 6:00, and Jensen manages to hit the snooze button approximately six times before Jared finally reaches over Jensen sleeping form and turns it off altogether. He watches as Jensen burrows a bit deeper within the sheets, face scrunching up in annoyance.

Deb is planted at Jensen’s feet as always, staring at Jared with eyes that are simultaneously wide and disinterested. Jared raises an eyebrow at her before turning his attention back to his comatose boyfriend.

“Jen,” Jared whispers, gently shaking Jensen, hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Time to wake up.”

Jensen's response is something along the lines of, “Nghh,” and when his attempts to shrug Jared off fail, he slugs an elbow back into the meat of Jared’s arm.

“Hey,” Jared repeats a bit more forcefully, delivering a sharp jab between Jensen's ribs. He groans in response, crawling to the very edge of his side of the bed. “Seriously, man. We gotta get up.”

“You get up.”

“You're going to miss class,” Jared chides, feeling a bit like a parent dealing with their toddler. Jared loves the guy, but he's stubborn as hell, and never more so than when being forced to wake up.

“And I'm going to fail and be kicked off of the swim team, I know,” Jensen grumbles, a direct reference to yesterday's attempt to get him out of bed. Jared thought it was a good one at the time.

“It’s our only class together, Jen,” Jared begins, deciding to try a different angle today. “If you skip, I might get lonely and have to talk to the cute guy who sits behind us. And if I talk to him, we'll probably fall madly in love and have to get married and stuff. And I just can't have you as a mistress, babe, I'm sorry.”

Jensen snorts at that, which doesn't exactly indicate Jared's threat has struck fear within his heart, but it means Jensen is still awake, which is something.

“Oh no, Jared, please don't leave me for the kid who sits behind us in sociology,” Jensen deadpans, fighting against his blankets to sit up. He has about ninety percent of the blankets they share on his side, being the blanket hog he is, and it's more of a struggle than it should be.

Jensen glances at him, bleary-eyed and a bit grumpy. He looks so adorable that Jared can't really repress the urge to ruffle his hair, so he does, pulling him to his chest.

“I hate you,” Jensen grumbles, voice muted from where his face is currently shoved against Jared's chest. Despite his words, he isn't trying to break free.

Jared chuckles. “You love me.”

“Meh.”

It takes willpower, but eventually Jared lets go of him and moves to stand up.

“If we hurry, we can grab some Starbucks,” he says in a singsong tone, tossing Jensen a bright smile over his shoulder.

“Tease.”

__________________________________

The thing is, sleep-rumpled Jensen is pretty much the cutest thing ever. He essentially looks like a giant four-year-old and acts like a grumpy eighty-year-old man, only hot. And maybe that sounds a bit creepy, but it really isn't. He's just adorable as fuck.

Jared watches as his boyfriend, who actually isn't four nor eighty, pouts his way through his first cup of coffee. It's a general rule that you don't really talk to Jensen before his first cup of coffee, and Jared usually follows this rule because he enjoys living.

“We still planning on going out tonight?” Jared carefully asks, braving the early-morning wrath of Jensen that will probably descend upon him. Jensen eyes him over the rim of his mug, but doesn't strike.

“Yeah,” Jensen nods. “As long as I still get laid.”

It's a joke to the extent that it isn't, a good nature probe with an undercurrent of truth. It's so close to midterms that they both have been running on fumes, too exhausted to do much else besides pass out at night. Neither of them are nymphos, but they usually have sex a few times a week, usually can't keep their hands off each other for more than a couple days.

So, yeah, they're both a little on edge. Jared learned long ago that wearing a Speedo in public when your hot boyfriend is around can be dangerous, especially when you haven't gotten laid in a week. Since an unfortunate incident junior year, Jared has generally been pretty good at keeping the pipes clean, so Little Jared doesn't make an unexpected appearance through the thin fabric of his swimsuit.

“You know,” Jared says, leaning close enough that they two are nearly nose-to-nose. “I think we might be able to work something out.”

He's going for sexy, but not the subsequent wrinkle of Jensen's nose.

“Dude. Morning breath,” Jensen grumbles, turning back to his cup of coffee. And, really, Jared should have known better than to talk to him when his cup is only half empty.

Jared rolls his eyes, landing a kiss upon the bridge of Jensen's nose before pulling back. “Or maybe not,” he says, referring to the earlier topic of getting laid.

Jensen sighs, catching Jared before he can pull away entirely and bringing him in for a quick kiss. “There. I kissed you, dead animal breath and all. You happy?”

Jared shakes his head in exasperation, flicking Jensen in the shoulder with his finger. “You need to work on your sweet talk, babe.”

“And you need to brush your teeth.

__________________________________

It's by some miracle that they don't have practice that night, a rare occurrence in their world of eating and sleeping pool water and chlorine-wrinkled skin. Jared has the night planned out: dinner and a movie and the rest of the night spent in bed with his boyfriend. It sounds so perfect that he has a hard time concentrating the rest of the day, through droning lectures and too-long free periods of silence.

He meets Jensen in the Union around four, late enough that the hoards of students that usually pile into the area have subsided a bit, leaving it more sparsely populated. He smiles widely when he finally sees Jensen shuffling down the stairs, but his smile ebbs substantially when he sees who he's with.

“Mark,” Jared greets, voice dripping with fake enthusiasm. “Hey.”

“Hey Jared!” Mark grins in return, either not catching onto the disdain in Jared's tone or simply not caring. Jensen's eyes dart between the two of them, watching carefully as though he's watching a couple of dogs sniff their way around one another, the threat of one striking looming overhead.

“Hey Jay,” Jensen says warmly, meeting his eyes with a smile. “Any chance you're up for a swim?”

If possible, Jared's face sinks even more. “A swim? But practice was canceled.”  
“Yeah, I know, but Mark works at that new country club down the road, Lawson Hills? He has a key and their pool is supposed to be sweet.”

“It is,” Mark smiles, nodding eagerly. “Three levels, sparkling, and turquoise-”

“We actually get a night off and you want to swim?” Jared interrupts, ignoring Mark altogether. Incredulous, he looks to Jensen.

Jared loves swimming. He does. But nights off happen so rarely that they're stupid not to take advantage of them, and he has been looking forward to having a nice night with his boyfriend since I found out about practice being canceled a few days ago. Not to mention this proposal of checking out the new pool comes with the promise of Mark being there, which is so not how Jared pictured spending his Friday night.

“I know, Jay, but-,” Jensen starts, and really, this isn't surprising. Jensen has always had this weird fascination with pools, always wanting to try something newer and cooler, like it's going to be some new amazing experience. Normally Jared would laugh it off, tease him a bit, and probably give in, but Mark's involvement in this rubs him the wrong way. Jared already has to deal with him all week in practice, he doesn't need the twerp invading his date night as well.

“What about our plans?” he asks in a quieter tone, trying to have a private conversation in the midst of company. Mark doesn't even have the decency to glance away, instead planting his feet and smiling brightly. Jared shoots him a quick glare before turning his attention back to his boyfriend.

“We can still hang out,” Jensen insists, and it knocks the air out of Jared that he says “hang out”, like they're just two buddies grabbing a drink on the weekend. “It'd only take like an hour, Jay. Tops. The rest of the night, I'm yours.” Quiet intimacy encapsulates that promise, and Jensen holds his gaze, slightly pleading.

“Fine,” Jared caves after a beat, shrugging in defeat. “You go ahead. I think I'm gonna head home, though. Catch a nap.”

“Jared-”

“No, it's fine. Go on and I'll catch up with you later,” Jared says, trying to sound nonchalant for Jensen's benefit. Jared doesn't want to be that guy who is so insecure that he freaks out over his boyfriend spending an hour with someone else, but he can't be the guy who sits back and watching someone else flirt shamelessly with his boyfriend, either. Not tonight, anyway.

He still wants the night to be as good as he hoped, and if Jensen wants to go swim for an hour with a teammate, then Jared isn't going to stop him, no matter how much he wants to. It isn't worth having another fight about Mark, another argument where Jensen tells him he has nothing to worry about, but Jared still does. He loves Jensen too much to let an idiot like Mark mess up their relationship, even indirectly.

He'll sacrifice an hour of his own happiness for a night of Jensen's.

“No Jared, I-”

“Seriously, Jen, it's fine,” Jared continues, selling it with as genuine a smile as he can manage. “I think I'll go grab a nap. We can grab dinner afterwards.”

“You sure?” Jensen asks, looking less than convinced.

“Yeah, man. Totally.”

Mark looks happier than he needs to, and Jared's desire to slap the look off his face is as strong than ever, but the bottom line is that Jared trusts Jensen. Implicitly. He trusts that their relationship can get through this unscathed.

And if for some reason Jared is wrong, there will be hell to pay.

__________________________________

Jared isn't an unreasonable person. In fact, he's reasonable. Very reasonable.

He understands things. He understands that things happen, that people lose track of time. He understands you have to be flexible, that people fuck things up by nature and you have to roll with the punches. And he does. He rolls with those punches. He's practically an expert at it.

One punch Jared is having some trouble rolling with, though, is the fact that the one hour not-a-date between Jared's boyfriend and said boyfriend's not-so-secret admirer has turned into three hours. And Jensen isn't answering his phone.

And, okay, Jared could understand that, maybe. Maybe Jensen forgot his phone in the car. Wouldn't be the first time. The thing is, though, Jensen isn't just not answering his phone. Jensen's phone is off. Jared knows this because in the approximately three hundred times he has tried to call him in the past hour and a half, it rolls instantly over to voicemail. Of which he has left six.

So, no. Jared doesn't think he is unreasonable. He also doesn't think he is being unreasonable driving past the school to see if Jensen's car is still in the parking lot. It is. He is also not being unreasonable when he drives past the Lawson Hills Country Club to see if Mark's car is still in the parking lot. He isn't.

Jared's perfectly reasonable. Full of reason. The problem is, Jensen isn't at the pool. He isn't with Jared. He is, apparently, still with Mark, though. And that doesn't look good.

Jared is also reasonable enough to know that Jensen has never cheated on him. He's reasonable enough to believe their relationship is solid enough that he never would.

Something is off, though. Something isn't right. And Jared is reasonable enough not to ignore the signs.

__________________________________

Three and a half hours and Jared's annoyance and paranoid have morphed into full blown panic.

Even in the worst case scenario of something happening between Jensen and Mark, four hours is a long fucking time. Jared knows Jensen well enough to know how he would react if he ever did cheat on Jared, and it doesn't include taking a celebratory jaunt with his newfound lover afterward. If Jensen ever did cheat, and that's a big if, he'd be spilling his guts to Jared and begging for forgiveness within the hour.

Jared knows Jensen and that's the problem. In their six years of friendship, Jensen has never done anything like this. Jensen doesn't skip out on plans. Jensen doesn't turn his phone off and walk away. Even if Jensen were mad at him, Jared knows he wouldn't just not come home, knows he wouldn't just stay out without at least giving Jared a thumbs up.

Even as the dread starts to grow in the pit of his stomach, Jared still expect the phone will ring, with Jensen on the other end calling him a mother hen and apologizing profusely. Jared would be mad, but relief would fuel his forgiveness until it didn't matter anymore.

Jared glances at his cell phone in the passenger seat, willing it to ring. It doesn't.

__________________________________

Four hours and Jared is idling in the driveway of the Ackles' home, contemplating whether or not to knock on the door. He doesn't want to scare them if nothing is wrong, but if on the off chance Jensen is here, there is no other way Jared will know. Jensen's car is still parked in the lot at school (Jared has checked a total of four times), and Jared thinks calling Jensen's parents to ask them if their son is missing or just avoiding him might be more harmful than just stopping in.

Jensen’s mom answers when he knocks on the door. Donna always looks pretty, always put together, but it's obvious she has dressed down for the night. She's wearing jeans and a t-shirt, hair gathered in a ponytail, though her makeup is still on point.

“Jared!” she greets, looking surprised but glad to see him. “What are you doing here? Is Jen with you?”

Jared's stomach twists painfully as he shakes his head. Jensen isn't here. “No, I-”

“Oh, honey, come in!” Donna chirps, stepping aside. “I just finished a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Let me send some home with you two.” Jared follows her inside, feeling a bit helpless to say no, but stalls in the entrance of the living room with hands buried deep in the pockets of his jeans.

“Is there something you need, sweetie?” Donna asks, turning to study him with eyebrows knitted in concern. Jared shrugs and bites his bottom lip, trying to look like he isn't freaking out on the inside.

“I was just...” he begins, taking a moment before rephrasing his thought. “Have you seen Jensen tonight?” Has he called you or stopped by at all?”

A look of confusion passes over Donna's features. “No. Why? Is something wrong? Did you two fight?”

“No, no, not at all,” Jared assures, seeing Mackenzie enter the room out of the corner of his eye. “He's, just, um. He's kind of missing, I think.”

“Who?” Jensen's little sister asks, leaning against the doorway. She might be mature for a seventeen-year-old, but she still has that gift of always looking bored even when she's interested.

“Jensen,” Donna answers, eyes firmly locked on Jared. “What do you mean, missing?”

“Well, he was supposed to be home like three hours ago. I keep trying his cell, but it's off, and his car is still parked at school,” Jared explains, words coming out in a rush. He's aware the second they leave his mouth how lame they sound, how it sounds like Jensen is out enjoying his Friday night and Jared is just being some jealous boyfriend who is overreacting. Donna, though, looks concerned, and this is exactly what Jared was hoping to avoid until he really had to.

“Maybe he just lost track of time,” Mackenzie offers dismissively, but there's something in her tone that shows she doesn't quite believe it. Jensen wasn't raised to lose track of time, he was raised on appointments of punctuality, on good manners and yes sirs and thank you, ma'am's, on good old fashioned Texas hospitality and the promises of a nuclear family. It's just not like Jensen, and maybe the police would dismiss the report as being a kid letting loose on a Friday night, but anyone who knows Jensen knows this is out of character for him.

Still, Jared doesn't want to worry the Ackles family more than he already has. “Maybe,” he says in response to Mackenzie's question, forcing a small smile. “I'm sure everything is fine, I really just-”

At that exact moment, there is a knock at the door. Besides being unexpected, it strikes Jared as odd. Why would someone knock in the presence of a doorbell?

Mackenzie scoffs. “Bet that's him. Dweeb probably forgot his key.”

Jared though, isn't quite sure. The three swift knocks resound in his bones, deepening the overwhelming feeling of dread that is starting to fill his veins, coursing throughout his body like a virus.

He watches as Donna crosses the room to answer the door, his mind repeating a mantra of it's fine, it's fine, I bet it's fine in an attempt to keep calm.

She swings open the door and calls out for Jensen's father with a bloodcurdling yell.

“Alan!”

At the door stand two uniformed police officers.

__________________________________

After that, time slows down and speeds by Jared all at once. He feels every second in its entirety, but the words that are being spoken refuse to sink in, refuse to process in anything but snippets of phrases.

The officers ask Donna if she would like to sit down. She refuses.

“There has been an accident,” is what he hears first, what he feels like a knife to the chest. The officers are calm, too calm, and it only serves to deepen the feeling of dread deep in Jared's gut.

“The car crashed in a creek,” is what he hears next, followed by the words, “they were ejected.” And as shocking and scary as it, it's the first spark of hope Jared feels. Because it means Jensen was thrown into the water. He has watched Jensen swim for six years, knows the level of comfort and the level of skill he has when it comes to finding his way through water. He's one of the best Jared has ever seen, the gold medal at State and nationally ranked kind of good, and if there is one place Jensen can survive, it's in the water.

Donna is crying now, held tightly by her husband. Alan Ackles is a stoic man, strong and unaffected, and to see the absolute fear and helplessness in his eyes right now is an indication of just how bad this is. Mackenzie is crying and at some point Jared must have grabbed hold of her, because his arms are wrapped tightly around her. He holds onto her like it's his only prayer, like if he just keeps his hold on Jensen's kid sister, somehow Jensen will be okay. He has to be. Oh god, he has to.

Bad things don't happen to people like Jensen. He's too good of a person, too amazing, too loved. He makes every day Jared spends with him the best of Jared’s life, makes Jared feel like he won the lottery of the lifetime because, by some miracle, Jensen loves him back. He is the best friend Jared has ever had, the best person he has ever known. He's the love of Jared's life, and you don't lose that when you're nineteen. You just don't.

Jensen is too strong for this, too good to go at nineteen. And, yeah, they say the good die young, but fuck. Please, god, make an exception this one time. Just this once.

Jared hears the words, “I'm sorry,” and his knees give out beneath him. He hears the words, “Jensen died at the scene,” and the life leaves him, through his lungs and his pores and his soul.

There are bits and pieces Jared hears after that, like “closed coffin” and “we don't recommend viewing him.” He hears phrases like “he went quickly” that are supposed to make Jared feel better, but that really just make him angry. Jensen was supposed to fight, damn it. He was supposed to win.

Jared is screaming, he realizes this, and after his throat goes raw he collapses in whispered whimpers of, “No, no. No...”

All he can think now is take me god. Take me instead of him, or at least, take me with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Despite the demands of swimming for their university, Jensen and Jared have a solid relationship build on half a lifetime of friendship. The last thing either of them expected was to have their perfect life together cut short by a tragic accident, leaving Jensen dead and Jared drowning in grief. In the midst of his despair, however, Jared soon realizes that everything is not as it seems. Another shocking revelation leaves Jared speechless and grasping to salvage the life he thought had become forever out of reach.

Growing up, Jared always had a vague idea of what his life would be when he got older. He'd swim. He'd get a job someday, something real cool. He'd have his own place.

He'd have Jensen there. That was always a given. Even when they were just best friends and nothing else, there was never any doubt that they were the forever kind. They were always going to be the kind of friends that sat next to each other in the nursing home in their nineties, reminiscing on the good old days and pulling pranks on the nurses.

When they got together, that was it. There was never any question that they were forever in that respect, either. There was no end to what they were. Maybe that sounded a little ignorant at sixteen, and not much better at nineteen, but they had time to prove everyone wrong.

Until they didn't. Jared had known Jensen since they were thirteen and had planned on having a good eighty years with him. They'd had six.

Now Jared just isn't sure how he's going to make it through the next seventy-three.

__________________________________

Since he has been home, his mother has whipped out every item on Jared's extensive list of favorite foods with little success. Everyone in Jared's life has always joked about the bottomless pit that is Jared's stomach, how he can clear plate after plate of food and still be hungry. It's a well-known fact that Jared eats. He eats a lot. Jared figures it's the main reason behind the concern in his mother's eyes every time he turns down a meal now, every time he simply pushes his food around the plate and then asks to be excused.

That and the fact that everything he does now seems to make her worry, even when he does nothing at all.

It's the reason why one night he decides to not only nibble on the steak she grilled, but actually polish off the whole thing, despite the empty feeling of disgust in the pit of his stomach. He does it for the look of surprised happiness on her face, does it so the furrow of her brow will let up, if only momentarily.

He spends the next half an hour throwing up in the bathroom, resolutely trying not to think about how he took Jensen out to a steakhouse on their first anniversary.

“I'm buying,” he had declared, smiling as Jensen peeked at him mischievously from over the menu.

“I'll take the most expensive thing on the menu, then,” he joked, playfully kicking at Jared's feet beneath the table.

“Anything for you, babe,” he grinned back. He meant every word.

__________________________________

When he moved back in with his parents, Deb The Cat came with him.

For all his talk of hating cats, Jared turns down Mackenzie’s offer of taking her immediately. Jensen loved that cat, and the thought of getting rid of her or pawning her off on someone else makes Jared sick to her stomach.

At night, Deb curls up next to him and stares off into distance, like she’s waiting for something, waiting for someone.

“I know,” Jared whispers, raking a hand over her soft fur. “I know. I miss him too.”

__________________________________

Sometimes, there are dreams.

They aren't nightmares, per se, but they aren't exactly good, either. They're about Jensen, of course. Everything is about Jensen.

The dreams are a little fuzzy around the corners, but real in a way dreams have never been. There is always a sense of panic, a sense of being trapped and an air of hopelessness. Sometimes he's just watching Jensen, his back to Jared. Jared can't make out what Jensen is doing, but he just knows it's not something he wants to be doing.

The dreams are an odd mix of comfort and distress. Comfort because Jensen is there, comfort because he's alive. Distress because Jensen isn't happy, distressed because he's right there and Jared can't help him.

Sometimes, Jensen turns to look at him, eyes wide with need. Help me.

Jared can't.

__________________________________

He doesn't drop out of school, per se. There is never really any formal declaration on his part. He just stops going to class, stops going to practice, and stops leaving the house entirely.

So, yeah. Maybe he drops out.

The thing is, college is kind of for people who want to make something out of themselves in life. It's kind of for people who have aspirations. Jared used to have those things, used to want to be the best he could be and all that shit. He used to want that.

Now, all Jared wants to do is climb into a hole in the ground and never resurface.

His mom keeps talking to him about the future, talking about “getting back in the game” when he's “ready,” like he's going to magically wake up one day and be over losing Jensen. Like he's going to wake up one day and be okay again.

And the thing is, he knows his mom doesn't actually believe it. She's saying it for her own benefit, for the need she has to believe that her son can overcome this, that he won't just wither away to nothing and cease to exist.

So Jared nods and Jared pretends and Jared acts like one day he'll be okay again. He acts like college is something that matters to him anymore. He nods along when his mom talks about his potential. He pretends that, dim as it might be, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

He acts like any of the light of the light in his life didn't fade out when Jensen did.

__________________________________

In the weeks after, Jared leaves his parents' house exactly twice. Once is an ill-advised outing to the grocery store, dressed in sweatpants and hair that hasn't seen a hair brush in four days, let alone a shower. He nearly hyperventilates in the produce section, next to a display of gala apples, which were decidedly Jensen's favorite. The venture ends with Jared storming out and sobbing in his car for twenty minutes, while a Pomeranian looks on from the car next to him.

His second journey into the outside world is a meeting at Greta's, the neighborhood coffee shop, with Jensen's sister, Mackenzie. She and Jared have been touching base with each other nearly every day since the news, clinging to one another like each is the only buoy in a deep, open ocean. The standard, “How are you holding up?” is always answered with an, “I'm fine”, or, “I'm hanging in there.” It's understood either response means they're anything but, but it means, “I'm not slitting my wrists,” which is really the best that can be expected.

Going into the coffee date, Jared is nervous. The one and only time he has left his bed in the past month didn't exactly go well. More than that, though, this is Jensen's sister. Jensen's sister who has his eyes, has his sense of humor and his freckles. She's the closest thing to Jensen still breathing, and that reminder settles shallow and heavy in his chest. He can't breathe if he thinks about it. He tries not to.

For all the associations Mackenzie has with things that hurt too much to think about, she is also the person who most understands what he is going through. She and Jensen were always close, and she was always accepting of the relationship he had with her brother, even when the rest of her family was struggling with it.

“How are you doing?” she asks, fingers curled tightly around her coffee cup like it's her lifeline. Her small figure is engulfed by the oversized chair nestled in the back of Greta's. She's smaller than he remembers her being.

He shrugs. “I'm fine.” The words come out weak, like he can't even pretend that they're true.

He glances up from his cup to notice her staring at him, lips pursed in a line. “And how are you actually?”

Since the accident, everyone has been taking everything he says at face value. He's pretty sure anyone with half a brain knows he isn't fine, but no one pushes. Everyone knows he isn't fine, but no one would know how to deal with him saying, “It feels like I'm drowning and there's no hope of breathing again.”

Except that's exactly what he says.

Mackenzie instantly relaxes, a look of relief flashing across her features. She nods.

“Yeah. me too. Me too.”

It's the first thing in a solid month that has felt remotely real.

__________________________________

The meetings with Mackenzie become a thing. They meet once or twice a week, downing coffees like shots over pitying looks from people they know. For such a big place, Austin really is too small.

“We should really find another coffee joint,” Mackenzie grumbles over a sip of her coffee as Mrs. Anderson scurries away after offering her condolences.

A small sardonic smile plays at the corner of Jared's mouth. “They're just trying to be nice.”

“I know. But if one more person who barely knew Jensen tells me what a great person he was, I'm going to start throwing shit.”

There's a starkness in what she says, the use of Jensen's name combined with the past tense that hits Jared like a punch to the chest. No one says his name around him, no one talks about him for fear of triggering something within Jared, for fear of breaking the dam that he has hanging on by a single thread.

But Mackenzie does. Mackenzie talks about him, and it's so well-adjusted of her that Jared would hate her a little if he didn't love her for saying it.

It hurts to hear Jensen's name. It hurts to hear him referred to in the past tense.

It hurts more to not hear him talked about at all, to have people act like he's a negative topic of conversation, like he's something that shouldn't be talked about.

So Jared pastes on a smile for her and says, “If you're going to start throwing shit, I'd start with the coffee.”

She grins at that, looking grateful, like she thought she had been out of line with her comment. “And waste my coffee? Blasphemy.”

“You and Jensen really were related.”

Just saying his name feels like a step in the right direction.

__________________________________

All his life, swimming has been Jared's escape. No matter what the situation growing up, the second Jared's feet hit the water, it was like he was in a different world. His own world, where he didn't have to think about anything but kicking and staying afloat. It was therapeutic, relaxing in a way nothing ever was on dry land.

After the accident, though, just thinking about swimming makes him sick. He can't stop thinking about that night with Mark, how Jensen went off for a quick swim and never came home. He can't stop thinking about how Jensen died in that creek, in water shallow enough he could stand up in if he tried. He can't stop thinking about how Jensen's official cause of death was drowning, how the best swimmer he knew died beneath a cold, murky expanse of water at the edge of town.

Jared doesn't stop swimming for his own benefit. At this point, drowning would be a blessing. He stops swimming because Jensen has, because the water took the man he loved and there's no getting him back.

Maybe it's crazy, but Jared has never claimed to be rational where Jensen is concerned.

__________________________________

It's not like Jared doesn't get that it's a little weird he's still at his parents' house six weeks later. He knows. It's weird. Especially when he has an apartment not ten minutes away.

It takes him all those six weeks to muster the courage to go back for his laptop and some more clothes. He has been wearing the same three outfits for the better part of a month and a half, and there's some part of him that thinks he should probably care.

It doesn't change the overwhelming dread that settles in his stomach as he pulls up to the complex, the one he and Jensen were so excited to be moving into not a year earlier. He can almost see the two of them standing in front, sizing up the brick building. Jared's arms wrapped around Jensen's waist from behind. Jensen leaning back with a trust that lay bone deep. In love. Happy.

The memory hurts in a way Jared isn't ready to deal with, and he tries to push it aside as he hurries up the stairs, painfully aware of the footsteps that no longer fall behind his own.

He fumbles with the key, tries it once, twice, three times before it finally fits in the lock, same as it always has. The first thing he notices when the door opens is the swell of warm air, hot and heavy. The air has been off for weeks and the Texas summer hasn't been kind.

The thing that really hits him, though, is how everything is exactly how he left it. Exactly how Jensen left it. The living room is still a lived-in clean, pillows tossed haphazardly across the couch and shoes toed off near the door. Jensen's green Chucks are intertwined with Jared's red ones, left so casually it stings Jared's eyes. For every part that's his own, there are equal parts Jensen. This place is both of them. Was both of them.

Jared can't help the sharp inhale he takes as he closes the door behind himself, eyes closed. The room is suffocating in more ways than one, sweat beading up on his forehead that he can't blame solely on the heat. It's just a quick visit, he tells himself. In and out. You can do this.

His legs are shaky, but he somehow makes it to the bedroom, their bedroom, and maybe that's the worst place he could go, but it’s the one place he needs to go. The bed itself is unmade, still ruffled from the last time he slept in it. The last time they slept in it. The sight of the bed stops him in the doorway, the implications of it stealing his breath from his chest.

When they'd gotten up that day, neither of them knew. Neither of them knew that it was their last day together, that Jensen would be gone that night. Gone. Like he'd never been there at all, like everything they just were wasn't anymore. Like it hadn't meant anything at all.

And that line of thought really isn't helping, Jared realizes, as tears sting his eyes. Clothes and my laptop, he tells himself. That's why I'm here. In and out.

He stumbles off to the closet, trying resolutely to focus only on his clothes. His hands are shaky as he pulls a couple shirts off their hangers, yanking a pair of jeans and some shorts from where they are folded on the shelf.

Without thinking, he tosses them on the bed. On Jensen's side of the bed. Which causes him to look at the bed. To look at Jensen's side of the bed.

A strangled sound escapes Jared's throat without his permission, and before he knows it, his feet are taking him to the bed, taking him to where the thrown back comforter exposes the sheets beneath. His fingertips skim over the soft gray cotton, and he's struck with the knowledge that his legs are about to go out. He sits on the bed, body collapsing into the fetal position as he curls against the mattress.

It smells like Jensen. Oh god, it smells like Jensen.

He cries for a good hour and leaves with nothing.

__________________________________

 

Jared goes to the Ackles' home on a Thursday to pick Mackenzie up. Her car is in the shop, a result of her mom hearing the brakes squeal as she pulled into the driveway and promptly freaking out about the safety of her daughter's vehicle. The concern is understandable, considering.

He meant to stay in his car, but somehow finds himself awkwardly sitting alone in the living room of the Ackles home after Donna scurried off to the kitchen to package up some cookies she baked.

He's staring hard at the family picture on the wall, from when Jensen was in junior high and Mackenzie's hair was in long blonde tendrils, when Alan walks in.

The man was his swim coach growing up, and there were times in Jared's life when he spent more time with Jensen's father than his own because of it. But things haven't been the same since Jensen came out, since Alan found out about the two of them. Things have been awkward, to say the least, and Jared can't help but think that Alan blames him for Jensen being gay. For influencing his perfect son and ruining his perfect family.

Now Alan doesn't have his perfect son anymore and his perfect family is in shambles. Jared doesn't know where this leaves the two of them.

Alan stops midstep, noticing Jared sitting on his couch. His mouth falls agape, which he quickly corrects with a tight smile.

“Jared. Haven't seen you in a while,” he says, clearing his throat. “How've you been?”

“Hanging in there,” he lies, forcing a smile. “Yourself?”

“Oh, you know. I've had better days.” The normally composed man looks ragged, hair mussed and dark circles falling under pink-rimmed eyes. His normal pressed shirt has been replaced with a t-shirt. “You here for Mackenzie?”

“Yeah. Hear her car's in the shop?”

“Yep. Brakes.” It's small talk, awkward small talk. It's two people that don't know what to tell each other, virtual strangers without their common connection, without Jensen as their common bond. In the void, though, the name hangs heavy. Silent, but heavy.

Jared nods awkwardly, trying not to get crushed under that weight.

Alan steps towards the doorway, like he's about to leave, before stopping, mouth working on saying something.

“Hey, um. I owe you an apology.” And that, of all things, is about the last thing Jared expected Jensen's father to say.

For lack of response, Jared just stares.

“For how I acted,” Alan elaborates. “When Jensen told me.” About the two of you.

“Oh,” Jared manages. “I, uh. It's fine.”

“It's not. I was in the wrong. And I wish,” Alan pauses, collecting himself as his voice breaks. “I wish I could go back and do things different. He, uh. He died thinking I hated him.”

“He didn't think you hated him,” Jared says automatically, because things were awkward, sure, but Jared knew Jensen well enough to know he never believed Alan hated him, not for one second. “Not at all.”

“Maybe so,” Alan concedes, scrubbing a hand over his face. “But looking back, it all seems so trivial now. He was my son. He was happy. That's all that ever mattered.”

There's a compliment in there, something that hurts too deeply for Jared to acknowledge yet. The implication that Jensen was happy, that Jared was the source of that happiness. It's too much right now, because it means the inverse was also true. That Jared was happy once. That Jared was happy because of Jensen. It's absolutely true and it's absolutely terrifying. Because if Jared was happy because of Jensen, then maybe he'll never be happy again. And more than anything, Jared believes that.

Again, there isn't really anything to say, so Jared simply nods.

“I just. You were good for him, you know. Really good for him.” Jared's chest is so tight he can barely breathe. “Made him real happy.”

“I would have been proud to call you my son-in-law one day.”

Jared is vaguely aware of the tears streaming down his face. He isn't sure when they started. His lungs are seizing, grabbing at air, but not taking any in. It's too much- too real, but too fake. That whole world, everything he ever wanted, all of that is gone. All of that has turned into what if's and I should have's and it's permanent in a way he can't change. In a way that no one can.

Mackenzie makes her entrance, but everything is too hazy to process. She hugs her dad and looks at Jared with a protective concern in her eyes. He isn't sure who the concern is for.

When they leave, she drives.

__________________________________

“So,” Mackenzie begins carefully, leaning forward in her chair slightly, hands gripping her coffee cup. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Jared answers automatically before inhaling deeply. “No. I mean... I don't know.”

“So that's a 'no',” she says gently, giving him a warm half smile. “What happened?”

“Nothing, it's just- your dad. He, um. Said some things.”

At that, she shifts in her seat, straightening nearly imperceptibly in Jared's peripheral. “What kind of things?”

“Oh,” Jared says, realizing she thinks he's referring to something negative her father might have said. “Nothing bad, just. You know. That he was sorry, for how he treated me and Jen. When he found out.”

“Oh,” she breathes, obviously relieved. “Yeah. I know he's feeling really bad about that.”

“Yeah. He also, uh,” he stammers, pitching a deep inhale before managing to complete the thought. “Uh, he said he would have been happy. To, uh. Have me as a son-in-law one day.”

He expects to see shock on Mackenzie's face, expects her green eyes to double in size and for her mouth to drop open. He expects her to look surprised, and she does, a little bit. Mostly, however, she looks sheepish. Guilty, even.

“Huh,” is all she says, but there's something much bigger behind that response, something she isn't saying.

Furrowing his brow, Jared asks, “What?”  
“It's nothing,” she says, but it's clearly anything but. She's fidgeting in her chair, now, fingers playing idly at the thin plastic lid attached to her cup.

“Kenz,” he says quietly, and she starts at that, looking up at him with wide eyes. Jensen always used to call her that. Jared hadn't meant for it to be the low blow that it is, but once it's out, there's no taking it back.

For her part, Mackenzie takes a moment to collect herself and graciously lets it slide.

“Jared, I don't know if I should-”

“Please,” he asks, just this side of begging. “Please.”

She stares at him for a moment, obviously torn. Then she sighs.

“Okay, I,” she begins before stopping and resolutely composing herself. Jared watches as she finds the right words, and then feels every one as she delivers them. “Jensen was looking for rings.”

It's five words. Five little words. Seven little syllables. But those five words pack a punch Jared hadn't braced himself for, and he feels them like a hit to the gut. Air swooshes out of his lungs just the same, sending tremors of surprise coursing through his veins.

Jensen was looking for rings. Jensen was going to propose.

It was everything Jared had wanted. They were nineteen and too young. They were three years into this thing between the two of them and so in love that it didn't matter. People were going to judge them, say they wouldn't last. But they were going to prove them wrong.

They were going to. They would have. But none of that mattered now. None of what they were going to be would ever be real now. Not anymore.

“Oh god,” Mackenzie groans, burying her face in her hands. “I knew I shouldn't have said anything. Shit. I'm sorry, Jared. I'm really-”

“It's okay,” Jared manages when he finally finds his voice, interrupting her. Clearing his throat against the lump that has formed, he finds himself nodding. “It's alright. I needed to know.”

“You didn't need to know now,” she blurts, still looking horrified. “I should have waited. I should-”

“It's fine.”

What if's, Jared thinks. That's all everything comes down to now.

__________________________________

It would have been a small wedding. Practical elopement. Fifteen people max. Close family, close friends. Not much more.

Intimate. Jensen would have teased Jared for using that term. Jared would have threatened to increase the guest list tenfold, to demand the ugliest, fanciest things money could buy. Jensen would have made some sassy comment about Jared going all Bridezilla on his ass. Jared would have rolled his eyes.

It would have been perfect.

__________________________________

There's a part of Jared that doesn't believe it's true.

He feels the loss like deeper and more painfully than anything he has ever dealt with, don't get him wrong on that. It's just so surreal, so impossible, and maybe there's just a part of him that desperately wants to believe it never happened. Maybe it's just him holding on to the last shred of hope he has, because he isn't sure what he will do without it. But it feels real, is the thing. He can't explain why.

He probably has a major case of denial. At least, Chad tells him as much.

“It's normal, Jared. It's like a normal part of the grief process. I looked it up,” Chad says, managing to look both concerned and smug.

“I get that. But I'm having these dreams-”

“Dreams are dreams, man. They don't mean anything.”

“Not these. I think these are different,” Jared insists, regretting bringing the dreams up at all. He doesn't know how he expected anything else from Chad.

“Different how?”

“I don't know. They're just so real. Like I see Jensen and he's alive and I just know that it's more than a dream.” Even as Jared is explaining it, he knows how pathetic it sounds. The pained doubt on Chad's face is confirmation, as if he ever needed any.

“Look. I've heard of people having dreams of people after they died. Like dreams from the person letting them know that they've moved on and are okay and shit. I'm sure that's all it is, dude. Just a dream.”

“It's not just a-”

“Then what is it?” Chad asks, suddenly confrontational, as if the last of his patience has been tested. “What? Like someone is just hiding Jensen out in a shed, alive and well?” Chad winces along with Jared the second the words leave his mouth, looking at his friend with a flash of regret. “Fuck. I didn't mean that. I'm sorry, Jare, I-”

“It's fine,” Jared dismisses, shaking his head. “You're right. It sounds crazy and maybe I'm just crazy, but. They seem real, is all.”

Nodding, Chad presses his lips in a tight line. There's a careful pity in his eyes that Jared hates, but he chooses not to confront it. “It will get better, man,” Chad says, voice uncharacteristically soft. “We're all hurting. It just takes time.”

It may be the first display of grief for Jensen that Chad has displayed since the night it happened, at least around Jared. Chad and Jensen were never the closest of friends, a bit too different to ever really connect beyond the basic, but there was always a respect there. Jared isn't naïve enough to think that respect wasn't based in the relationship each shared with him.

Jared doesn't believe a word Chad says, not really. But for his sake, he nods, acknowledging a shallow hope that he doesn't actually believe exists.

__________________________________

Every day Jared wakes up and makes it through the day is a milestone, now, just like every week that ticks by without Jensen. He's inside of a week of reaching the two month mark since the accident and he can barely breathe.

The dreams are changing now, becoming more intense. He sees darkness, sees the ground and the night sky, but what he feels is what matters. There's a panic, heavy in his chest, and there's a sense that this is it, all or nothing.

There's nothing about the dreams that show they're about Jensen, but Jared just knows.

Something has to give.

__________________________________

Three days short of two months after Jared's life ended, everything changes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Despite the demands of swimming for their university, Jensen and Jared have a solid relationship build on half a lifetime of friendship. The last thing either of them expected was to have their perfect life together cut short by a tragic accident, leaving Jensen dead and Jared drowning in grief. In the midst of his despair, however, Jared soon realizes that everything is not as it seems. Another shocking revelation leaves Jared speechless and grasping to salvage the life he thought had become forever out of reach.

Jared wasn't counting on actually sleeping, is the problem. He didn’t set his alarm the night before because there's no reason to, based on his new pattern of sleeping about three hours a night in half hour intervals. He didn’t count on having a dreamless sleep, didn’t count on his body taking the sleep it was offered and running with it.

That's how he ends up sleeping half an hour past when he was supposed to meet Mackenzie at Greta's.

“Fuck,” Jared spits, throwing the covers back and launching himself off the bed. Scrambling for his phone, he expects to see twenty missed texts about how much he sucks. There are none.

And, okay, that's a little weird. Because Mackenzie Ackles is nothing if not punctual, and she isn't the type to be shy in giving a piece of her mind if she thinks someone is ditching her. It's possible, though, that she pulled a Jared and lost track of time, so he shoots her a quick I suck i overslept :( and hurries to get dressed.

The t-shirt he grabs is probably clean and the jeans are reserved for the rare occasions when he actually leaves the house. Taking the extra three seconds, he forces a comb through his hair and brushes his teeth before kicking on some shoes.

It takes all of two minutes to get dressed, but he's still surprised when his phone reads zero messages when he checks it. Frowning, he hits the call button and is promptly directed to Mackenzie's voicemail.

“Hey,” he says, furrowing his brow. “It's me. I- we're getting coffee today, right? At 11:30? I overslept, sorry, but- call me back, okay?”

Jared isn't a superstitious guy. He doesn't claim to be the least bit clairvoyant or have any sort of awesome intuition. He does, however, have a weird feeling settling shallow in his gut. He spends the next five minutes fidgeting around his parents' kitchen, trying to ignore the feeling before getting in his car and driving over there himself.

___________________________

Jared isn't really sure what he expects to see in pulling up to the Ackles' home. What he does not expect to see, however, are three police cars overflowing from the drive way onto the street.

At a distance, he can almost pretend they aren't police cars. They're at just the right angle, and none of the cars have their lights on. Jared isn't gullible enough to believe that, though. He'd know a cop car a mile away.

“Shit,” he murmurs, heart seizing in his throat. “Shit, shit...” Because this can't be happening. It's been two months since that night, not even, and there's no way this can be happening. This family has gone through enough, and Jared keeps telling himself that this isn't what it looks like. That it can't be what it looks like.

Three police cars are kind of hard to argue with, though, and whatever this is, there is no way it's anything good.

Jared slams his car in park before he has even fully braked and is half way across the lawn before anyone intercepts him.

“Whoa, kid, hold up a second,” a man says, stepping in front of him. Dressed in a navy uniform, the man's name tag reads Schrader. “What can I help you with?”

'What's going on?” Jared breaths, air leaving his lungs in short gasps. He must look on the verge of an all out anxiety attack, because the man's eyes take a decidedly concerned edge.

“What's your name?” the man, Officer Schrader, asks in lieu of an answer. Jared shakes his head, looking past the man to the house behind him.

“No, I gotta-”

Schrader places his hands on Jared's shoulders, lightly yet firmly, forcing him to look at him as Jared tries to head towards the house. “Hey. Your name?”

“Jared,” he answers, exhaling loudly. “Jared Padalecki.” 

He expects the officer to give him some standard bullshit answer, like, “Only family past this point, sorry.” What he doesn't expect is for the man's face to shift in some sort of understanding, for him to nod like Jared's name means something important.

“Padalecki,” Officer Schrader repeats. “Jensen's friend?” And that is a blow Jared really wasn't expecting. He normally has time to brace himself before hearing Jensen's name, normally has time to prepare for the whoosh of air that always wants to leave his lungs at the mention. The man is to the point, connecting him to this place in a way Jared wasn't prepared for, in a way that Jared hadn't intended.

“Uh, yeah,” Jared manages when he's finally able to breathe again, his voice a bit hoarse. “I, um. Is everything okay? Is Mackenzie here?”

“Everything is fine,” the officer assures, though obviously not stating the whole truth. “I'm officer Alex Schrader with the APD. Could I see your ID?”

“Uh,” Jared murmurs, fumbling for his wallet. His heart is pounding and his palms are slicked in sweat, and he's pretty certain the police officer doesn't miss the way Jared's hands shake as he hands him his driver's license. “Yeah, sure.”

Officer Schrader squints, examining the plastic before pulling a small notebook and pen out of his pocket and jotting down Jared's name and license number. When he's done, he hands it back to Jared with a nod of acknowledgment. 

“Now normally this is information I could only share with family, but the Ackles family specifically gave me permission to speak with you, so,” Officer Schrader explains while looking over the notepad in his hand, flipping through pages before at last stalling on one. “Looks like we sent an officer to your residence.”

“Residence?” There was certainly no one at his parents' place when Jared left.

“8221 Rutland Avenue? Apartment six?”

“Oh,” Jared breathes, nodding softly. “Yeah, no. That's, um. That was my apartment. Still is. My apartment. But, I haven't, uh. Haven't stayed there in a couple months.”

“That would explain it,” the officer says, jotting something down. “Alright,” he says when he finishes, flashing Jared a friendly smile. 

“Could we take a seat?” The question is asked with a sweeping arm gesture towards the Ackles' front porch, to a porch swing Jared helped hang when he was sixteen and where he and Jensen snuggled up on cool autumn nights. Jared tries to shake that association from his mind, instead nodding weakly and following the officer up the two steps leading to the porch. He collapses onto the white wood of the porch swing and watches as Officer Schrader scoots a chair up across from him.

“What's going on?” Jared breathes, all his energy hinging on the answer to this question. His chest feels like it is caving in, like the air is constricting his lungs instead of filling them. Adrenaline fuels his heart, the beat growing ever quicker, and he watches Officer Schrader with hawk-like accuracy, cataloging every change in his expression for possible evidence. Part of him believes the answer to what's going on can be found that way, by studying the nuances of this man, who looks steeled but slightly uneasy.

Jared isn't naïve enough to think this will end well.

“Alright, well, there's no easy way to say this, so I guess I'll jump right in,” Schrader says, running a hand through his hair while looking suspiciously out of his element. Jared's heart clenches painfully at the words, and he braces his stare even harder against the distinct feeling that he may pass out.

“First off, just let me repeat that everyone is fine. Everyone in that house is fine. Everything is fine,” Schrader continues, holding his hands up with palms facing Jared in what he assumes is supposed to be a reassuring gesture. “This... is really out there, let me warn you. It sounds crazy, I'm just going to be real with you on that. They don't really train us for this type of thing, and, uh. Just keep an open mind, because I promise you, it's real.”

Jared thinks back to the night Jensen died, to what Mackenzie said when they were talking about that night, about the police officers who brought them the news. “They were so nonchalant,” she said, tears welling in her eyes as her hands clenched her cup of coffee. “Like it was just another day on the job.”

The man in front of him is behaving the exact opposite, uneasiness rolling off of him in waves. Jared isn't sure if this is a good thing or bad.

“Tuesday, officers discovered a massive growing operation down near Laredo. It was a large chunk of land zoned for farming, filled to the brim with crops. That much was obvious from the road, and, aside from the fence surrounding the entire property, it appeared to be just another farm in south Texas. The fence was taller than one would think necessary, but that was easily dismissed because of the threat of wildlife in that area. Nothing to arise suspicion.”

Jared stares at the man, who appears to be reciting verbatim what he knows about the place. It's little more than that, nothing that really qualifies as actual conversation, and Jared honestly doesn't know what it has to do with anything. Doesn't know what a farm has to do with the police swarming the Ackles' property, doesn't know what a town some three and a half hours away has to do with anything at all. Still, he watches with anxious attention, leaning forward a bit as he braces himself for the answer.

“Upon further inspection, though, there were definitely some aspects of the place that were abnormal, things you couldn't see from the outside. When they cased the property, police found an underground bunker- huge- that served as a lab. They seized an astounding amount of methamphetamine and marijuana, stored in such close proximity it was subject to cross contamination. It was genius, actually. Lace your pot with fumes from your meth lab and make addicts out of the occasional pot smoker.

“Anyway,” Schrader breathes, running his fingers over his blond hair nervously. “That wasn't all they found.”

The words hang in the air briefly, dripping with significance, and Jared thinks, this is it. This is the part that matters. He can tell it in the stiff way the officer sits, back straightened and hands firmly clasped together, facial expression carefully schooled blank. Whatever Schrader is about to say, it's the reason he's here. 

“We found people. Some alive, some not. But, um. They were workers. Like nineteen hour days, seven days a week type of workers. It wasn't cartel, from what we can tell, but it was a big operation and we're thinking there are more out there. These people, these workers, were held against their will. Practical slaves. And this is where it gets weird.”

Jared doesn't think he's imagining the deep breath the man takes, the clear measure to steady himself and brace for what he is about to say.

“From what we can tell, every single worker on that farm is either considered missing or dead.”

Jared raises a brow, confused now. “But you said-”

“No,” Schrader says, stressing the significance of that word as he leans forward a bit in his chair. “Missing or dead. Legally. Every worker on that farm either had missing posters blanketing their hometown, or a tombstone with their name on it. Every one. Kidnapping, faked deaths, you name it.”

Jared furrows his brows, heart settling shallow in his throat and beating fast. “I don't understand.

“It was a massive operation,” Schrader says, not for the first time. “Best we can tell, there was a network. The ringleaders knew the most efficient way to run a place like that was to have workers who couldn't leave, workers who couldn't go bitching to OSHA. And the only way to have people there for years on end was to keep them against their will. Obviously no one's going to sign up to be somewhere against their will, kind of goes against the against their will part. So they took people. Plucked them right off the streets, textbook kidnapping at its finest.

“But, you know, kidnapping attracts attention. The type of attention that leads to people getting caught. So these people, they found another way. They figured out the only way to make people disappear without anyone looking for them was for that person to die. In the eyes of the law, anyway. Like I said, this operation was huge, multiple towns, maybe even multiple states.”

“How does that happen?” Jared asks, resolutely numb. He can barely process the words coming out of the officer’s mouth, the complete ludicrous nature of the story he’s telling making it hard to follow.

“They infiltrate. They recruit. They get paramedics. They get ties to the coroner's office. Hell, they even get police officers. We're talking about a nine-digit enterprise, here. They get whoever the hell they want. After that, it's easy to make happen. Fake a death, write up the paperwork and you have a worker for life.”

Jared's staring, he knows that, but he isn't quite sure at which point his mouth fell open. “That... what is that, out of a shitty crime novel?”

That earns a chuckle in return, but Schrader doesn't exactly seem amused. “I know kid. Didn't believe it myself, when I first heard. Down to its basics, though, it's human trafficking, and it's a multibillion dollar industry. Any group with enough organization could make this happen and that's the scary part.”

“The people they took, some were illegals, some were citizens. We figure they did that to keep from arising too much suspicion about harboring immigrants without the proper paperwork. They had a game plan. Take them in, break them down, and then do what they wanted with them. Some of the workers mentioned ties to sex trafficking also, though we're trying to verify those claims. This is crazy, kid, real crazy. I've never seen shit like this.”

“I... fine,” Jared says, raising his hands and trying to focus his eyes, vision swimming. “Even if it is true, why tell me? What does this have to do with them?” he asks, gesturing towards the house behind him. All the information is swirling in his mind, a tornado of impossible thoughts and off base hopes.

He'd be lying if he said some glimmer of hope didn't surface when the officer mentioned faked deaths, when he mentioned tombstones topping empty graves and people living under the guise of being dead. His mind keeps catching on Jensen, on the fact that the police are here at the Ackles home with this impossible story. There must be a reason.

“Three workers escaped,” Schrader says at last. “Ended up at a gas station near Larga Vista, looking worse for their wear, but alive. When those in charge found out they were missing, they went into panic mode. A fight broke out and some of the workers were killed before turning on their captors. It seems a couple of the captors managed to escape, but a handful were killed in the scuffle. As I said, officers closed in on the area Tuesday and the workers have been recovered.”

“I still don't-”

“Jared, Jensen was one of the three that escaped.” Air whooshes out of Jared's lungs, as the words hit him like a kick to the chest. The world shifts beneath him, vision swimming as he tries to regain his balance. Jensen...

“No,” he murmurs, words coming out on their own accord. “No. No, you-”

“I know this is all a lot to take in. And I'm sorry to break it to you this way. If I knew a better way, I would. But Jensen is ali-”

“No,” Jared repeats, this time with much more force. “You think this is funny? Fuck you. Jensen died two months ago, and-”

This time, Schrader interrupts him by handing him a piece of paper. Jared doesn't think anything else in the world could shut him up quite so quickly.

Because on the page is a picture of Jensen. Only this picture of Jensen isn't one Jared has ever seen before, not in a yearbook or Jared's camera or at Jensen's memorial service. 

The Jensen in the picture is thin in a way Jensen never was, dirty in a way Jensen never would have been. His hair is longer than Jared has ever seen it, skimming his ears in mud-matted tendrils. Dirt smears Jensen's normally porcelain complexion, burned to a deeper tan color than Jensen ever got, even during the long summers they spent together in the sun. 

The Jensen in the photo wears a tee shirt smeared with dust and mud, hanging loosely on his frail form. His arms are still firmly muscled, but his skin clings to every crevice, like any padding Jensen once had is gone and his skin has grown three sizes too tight. His eyes are what catch Jared's attention most, just as they always had. There's a mix of fear, relief, and pure exhaustion that twists at Jared's heart, makes him want to pull the man to his chest no matter how filthy and never let him go.

Photoshop, his mind tries weakly, but Jared knows better than that. He would know Jensen anywhere.

“I don't,” he murmurs, the words slipping out without his permission. He doesn't know what he was going to say. I don't understand, maybe. I don't believe you, possibly, because it seems like the right thing to say. It's the only thing to reconcile the fact that Jensen has been dead for two months with the picture in front of him, with the words the officer is saying.

Jared doesn't process any of the words Schrader is saying, but soon another paper is in his hands, obscuring the view of the previous with a new photo.

Jensen. The background is white, crisp, and Jensen is clean. His hair is cut, slightly fluffy like it used to be when he'd skip hair gel. His skin is still darker than ever, but cleansed of dirt. Jared can make out the faint outlines of the freckles he used to count, of the dots that made Jensen blush when spoken of. He's still thin, still clearly exhausted, but he looks healthier than in the previous photo, more alive.

In Jensen's fingers is a newspaper. Above the headlines in the top corner is a date. Yesterday's date, clear as day. Yesterday, when Jensen was dead and definitely unable to hold a newspaper, to look into a camera and offer a quirk of a smile.

None of it makes sense, but all of it does, and try as he might, Jared can't deny the proof in front of him. Sure, there's Photoshop, but Jared has seen Jensen from every possible angle, in every possible way since they were thirteen, and while this is a Jensen he has never seen, it is also the Jensen he has always seen. Thin and too tan, too tired, but alive and still Jensen. Still beautiful and still the boy Jared loves more than anything, the boy he has been wasting away without.

Jared doesn't know how long he stares at the photo, tuning out whatever Officer Schrader is saying, but he finally tunes back into reality, eyes snapping up from the picture.

“They didn't starve them, but they certainly weren't feeding them enough,” the man's lips are pursed, a look of disgust passing over his features. “Sounds like Jensen was in pretty good shape beforehand. The doctors said it helped him overall, but he didn't have much to lose.

“They did tests at the hospital. Low on a few vitamins, but other than that, he's healthier better than expected, it sounds. Got some IV fluids in him, to help with the dehydration.

“He's doing well, considering. He is quite the hero,” Schrader says, and that Jared can believe. If anyone is strong enough to escape a situation like that, it's Jensen.

For his part, Jared nods, eyes returning to the photo. There's still a chance, against all of Jared's instincts, that it's fake. He knows that, knows it too well. He won't fully believe it until Jensen is in his arms. Even then, he probably won't. But there's something about this photo that he can quite shake, something that makes him feel the closest he has to Jensen in months.

Schrader clears his throat, prompting Jared to glance up again. “So I'm not really supposed to say this, because I can't ever really make any guarantees, you know. But your boy? I think he's going to be just fine.”

Once more, all Jared can do is nod, eyes returning to the photo as the officer briefly excuses himself. The words start to bubble in his throat to ask Schrader where Jensen is, but for the moment, at least, Jared pauses. Looking at the photo, he thinks, right here.

Jensen is right here.

___________________________

Schrader is gone maybe thirty seconds before returning to the porch. In that time, Jared successfully manages to convince himself that the photo in his hands can't possibly be real, that the story the police officer spouting is utter bullshit, and that Jared was crazy for ever believing either for a second.

He's shaking his head, bracing to stand, about to give Schrader a piece of his mind, but the officer quickly steps in front of him, boxing him into his seat.

“I've gotta...” Jared trails off, attempting to stand once more, this time finding restraint in the form of a gentle but insistent hand on his shoulder. “No, this is crazy, I-”

“Look, we can make this easy or we can make this hard,” Schrader sighs, taking a step back. “That's Jensen, right? In the photo?”

Pausing, Jared's eyes sweep over the picture once more, taking in the set of the subject's shoulders, the angle of his nose. The green of his eyes. “Yes,” he says, sounding anything but sure. It's Jensen, but it can't be Jensen. “But-“

“Okay, then,” Schrader interrupts, fumbling for something in his pocket. “Before you see him-”

See him.

With that, it’s like the switch is flipped once more, back into the state where Jared believed there might be a shot in hell all of this was true. Back to a state of believing Jensen might actually still be alive.

“Is he… is he in there?” Jared asks, going to stand for a third time. Once more, Schrader's hand on his shoulder prevents him from getting up. Jared furrows his brow, frustration evident.

“Hey, slow down. You go in there now and you're going to pass out on the spot. You need to ease into this a little.” Schrader says something else, something about Jared being in shock, but all Jared can focus on is the object in the officer's hand. A cell phone.

“Do you think you want to talk to him?” Schrader asks, eyes questioning, like Jared is actually going to say no.

Jared just stares at him before trying the words in his own mouth. “Talk to him.”

“Yeah. Do you think you're ready? If you need more time to process-”

“Talk to Jensen.” There is a hint of awe in Jared's words and a touch of skepticism. He can't count the number of times in the past couple of months he has found himself thinking that he would give anything, anything, to talk to Jensen again, even if just for a minute. His denial ran just deeply enough to conjure up all types of situations in which he would see Jensen again, talk to him again, but the denial ran just shallow enough to know that it would never happen.

And here he is, sitting on the porch of Jensen's house, with a phone and a promise that Jensen will be on the other end of the line. Officer Schrader is looking at Jared like he's made of glass and possibly a bit insane, like the offer for the phone call was misguided and Jared might not be strong enough to deal with it.

“We can wait,” Schrader starts to say, but Jared shakes his head. If he's strong enough to still be breathing after losing Jensen, then he's strong enough to speak to him after somehow getting him back.

“No,” Jared murmurs, shaking his head. “I'm ready. I want to.”

Schrader looks less than sure, but eventually nods and begins dialing a number on the small black phone. With each push of a button, Jared's heart races faster. The butterflies in his stomach have spread to his chest, to his throat, and he feels a bit like he can't breathe, a little like he's choking. He's holding his breath against the feeling that he might throw up, that he might pass out or die right here, seconds away from getting his life back. 

Every part of him that still thinks this can't be real is being suffocated with the hope that it is. Jared tries not to think about what it means that he feels he's suffocating, too.

Schrader turns with his phone to the ear, stepping away for a moment as Jared tracks him with his eyes. When the officer turns back, it's with an outstretched palm, the phone cradled in his hand.

“Here,” he smiles. “It's on speakerphone.”

Jared stares at the phone for a moment before his body responds, carefully retrieving the phone with a careful grip. He's cognizant, above everything else, that he is in a state of shock. His body feels numb, the enormity and, ultimately, absurdity of the situation making it too heavy to feel. He's moving through the motions, but this could be the one thing that could ground him. Talking to him. Hearing that voice again.

It takes Jared a minute to find his own voice. It's beneath months of unuse, under the weight of grief and disbelief. The threat of tears constricts his airway, and he takes a shaky breath to steady himself.

There are a thousand things to say, but in the end, there's really only one.

“... Jensen?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Despite the demands of swimming for their university, Jensen and Jared have a solid relationship build on half a lifetime of friendship. The last thing either of them expected was to have their perfect life together cut short by a tragic accident, leaving Jensen dead and Jared drowning in grief. In the midst of his despair, however, Jared soon realizes that everything is not as it seems. Another shocking revelation leaves Jared speechless and grasping to salvage the life he thought had become forever out of reach.

“... Jensen?”

The word comes out as a choked off whisper, and Jared is vaguely aware that he is gripping the phone too hard, fingers curled too tightly around the casing. Breath snarls painfully in his throat, refusing to budge. 

The world may actually stop spinning for a minute, maybe a year. Time has ceased to exist, for all Jared knows. Because the literal two seconds he waits are the longest of his life.

“Jared.”

Jared has heard his name a thousand different ways. He has heard it said in frustration, in celebration, in greeting, in passing. He has heard it in glee, in defeat, in lust, and in sorrow. 

In this moment, it's like none of those times matter. It's like this is the first time anyone has said his name, the only time.

The noise that escapes Jared's throat is an odd cross between sputtering, sobbing, and laughing and he makes no attempt to restrain it. Over the past couple months, he has listened to that voice many times, through home videos and played back voicemail messages, but nothing, nothing compares to hearing it in real time.

“Jared?” Jensen's voice repeats through the receiver, an undercurrent of questioning to his tone. Jared manages to croak out something in acknowledgment, noticing as he looks down at his hands that his whole body is shaking. 

“Jay. Hey. Hi,” Jensen sounds breathless, like he is just as awed as Jared feels. “How. Shit. How are you? Are you alright?”

“I, uh,” Jared says after a pause to regain some semblance of composure, fingers raking nervously though his hair. “Yeah. I'm. Fuck.”

Jensen's laugh in response sends Jared's heart into all-out seizures, pounding and restricting against his ribcage so hard he feels through his arms, through his legs. He might actually be having a heart attack in this moment, but he can't bring himself to care. 

Jensen is here. Jensen is alive. Jared can die happy now.

“I know, man, I know,” Jensen smiles, voice warm. “But, seriously. How you doing?”

This is the conversation he has been dreaming about, but Jared is having a hard time finding his words. Every time Jensen pauses, all he wants is for him to say something else, anything else. Keep talking. Because at every pause brings a silence that the distance between them lengthens, a blank space that can't be filled because he can't see Jensen. In those moments of silence, Jared can't prove that Jensen is alive, that he's breathing. That he's real.

He needs to see Jensen.

“Where are you?” Jared asks, getting to his feet. Schrader, who has been feigning disinterest at the other end of the porch under the illusion of giving them privacy, is at his side at an instance.

“Jared, sit down,” he urges. “You really should-”

“Are you inside?” Jared asks, ignoring the officer as he turns and walks to the door, footwork shaky but strong.

“Yeah, Jay, but I-”

The door handle gives and the door swings open. Jared's eyes dart around the Ackles' living room wildly, searching for any sign of Jensen.

“Jen?” he yells, voice revealing more panic than he intended. Schrader is a lingering presence behind him, like an overly protected parent overseeing their child's first steps, but he seems to have given up on the notion that he can keep Jared from Jensen, like anyone ever could.  
“Jens-” the word ends abruptly as Jensen rounds the corner, stopping in his tracks as he meets Jared's eyes. 

Jared nearly collapses at the sight of the man in front of him, lungs aching like the wind has been knocked clean out of him. Jensen is only feet away, staring at Jared with eyes blown wide and bright. His weight loss is more pronounced in person, in the lithe form of his body beneath his oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, but he's alive. Somehow, he's alive and the proof is too sudden, too much to stomach. 

Jared's legs are his strongest feature, thickly muscled from years spent in the pool, but even they aren't strong enough to deal with this. As he takes a step forward, drawn like the pull of a magnet, his knees buckle. Schrader's lurking pays off, in the form of strong hands wrapped around the backs of Jared's biceps, steadying him just enough to keep him from falling.

Jared hasn't broken eye contact with Jensen, who quickly closes the gap, stopping inches from Jared.

“Hey,” he smiles shyly, the sight of it like a punch to the stomach. He's too thin and too dark, but he is still absolutely the most beautiful thing Jared has ever seen. Tightness wells in Jared's throat, and he reaches out for the boy in front of him, hands blindly pawing for purchase. 

The moment his fingers touch skin, warm and alive beneath his fingers, Jared loses it. The second a sob escapes from Jared, Jensen's arms are around him, his body colliding with Jared's. Weak as he may look, Jensen is surprisingly strong. The arms holding up Jared encircle him with a crushing tightness and Jensen is holding more of his body weight than Jared would like to admit.

The moment is so surreal, so impossible that it takes a second for Jared's mind to catch up, to hear the words pouring out of his own mouth.

“Oh god, oh god. Oh fuck. Oh my god...”

“Hey,” Jensen says, voice soothing as his arms constrict even tighter. “It's okay. It's alright. I'm here.”

And of course, that is the one thing that could be said to make Jared bawl even harder. Because he is. Jensen is here. Jensen is here and it's impossible and real and the best thing that has ever happened in Jared's life.

“I love you,” he babbles. “Oh fuck, Jen, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Jensen's fingers smooth over Jared's hair, gentle like he is the most precious thing in the whole goddamn world. He draws away just far enough to plant a soft kiss on Jared's temple, flush against the hairline, before rewrapping his body around him. “I missed you. God, Jared. I missed you every goddamned second.”

Jared nods, vaguely aware of the tear-slicked mess he's leaving behind, his face buried firmly in the crook of Jensen's neck. There, he can feel Jen's pulse point, the reassuring thump thump beating in perfect rhythm. He counts the beats, unconsciously at first, counts them in time with his own. The rhythms fall in perfect synchronicity, steady like they never stopped.

For the first time in months, he feels alive. For the first time in months, he actually wants to be.

___________________________

After that, time passes in waves. They finally separate after hours or minutes or seconds, Jared isn't quite sure. There is sound around him, people talking, people talking to him, but everything blurs to dull hum. His sole focus is on Jensen, soaking in the sight like he is starving for it. 

Jensen's eyes don't leave his, not for a second.

The waves pulsate in shocks of reality, simple and staggered: Jensen's family is here. Jared sits down with them. Jensen's mom is crying, Mackenzie is crying. He is crying. Jensen's fingers wrap around his own, holding him tight. People are talking, he is talking, but all Jared can see is the grip Jensen has on his hand.

As reality begins to take hold, Jared is struck with all the nuances he lost grip on in the last couple of months, the little facts of the man he loves that have faded from his mind. The exact angle of Jensen's jawline. The exact arrangement of the freckles on his nose. The way his eyes light up, the way his whole body does. The pitches of his voice and how they waiver, the set of his shoulders when he relaxes.

How could I forget, Jared wonders with disgust. Then he considers what those weeks were like, moving underwater beneath the weight of his grief. Drowning in it, in despair so heavy there was no breaking the surface. He remembers the hopelessness, how it felt like he was a ghost in his own life, like he was buried along with Jensen but his body continued on.

It's easy to forget the pain in Jensen's presence, with Jensen sitting next to him on the Ackles' couch, breathing and smiling and living.  
Everyone looks more than a little shell shocked, eyes wide with emotion and the undercurrent of disbelief. It's more than a little reminiscent of the night everything went down, a group of people so caught up in their own emotions and struggle to believe the new reality that has been sent their way. It feels too surreal to be true, much like that night did, but this time it feels more like a dream than a nightmare.

Even Officer Schrader looks shaken when he reenters the room, inhaling deeply like this day on the job has taken an unprecedented toll on him. Every aspect of his being looks completely exhausted, from the way he moves to the slump of his shoulders. His eyes are rimmed in pink, like he has been fighting back tears for hours, and the set of his mouth is caught somewhere between a smile and a frown.

Jared is suddenly filled with the simultaneous desire to both hug the man for what he has given him and attack him for what his organization was a part of taking away from him. In the end, he stays in his seat, stays quiet. It seems everyone else has made the same decision, eyes watching him with an air of indifference. It really isn't fair to shoot the messenger, especially when the man is so clearly already down.

“The news will hit soon, I reckon,” Schrader says, clearing his throat. “Within the next couple of days. I'm just giving you the heads up, because there will be people trying to get to you. Reporters. News crews. Lawyers. I'd tell anyone that needs to know before then. Just as common courtesy.

“If anyone gives you too much trouble, don't hesitate to give us a call. The last thing we want is for more stress to be put on your family. From the Austin Police Department, I would like to extend our deepest apologies. Genuinely, from the bottom of my heart. I'm sorry.”

After a beat of silence, Alan speaks up. “Thank you,” he says, clearing his throat.

Schrader nods in acknowledgment. “I'll leave your family be, now. I'm sure you have a lot to catch up on. Again, don't hesitate to call us if you notice anything amiss.”

“We will,” Donna assures, fingers looped tightly with her husband's on the loveseat across from Jared.

Schrader nods, gesturing toward the front door. “I'll let myself out.” He does so without another word, leaving with a suddenness that makes Jared believe the waiver of the man's voice wasn't in his imagination.

The door closes quietly, but the noise resounds loudly in the quiet room. The silence that sets in is a reflection of the mood of the room, everyone so lost in their own thoughts that conversation seems needless. After a beat, Jared feels a squeeze on his hand. He turns to see Jensen staring at him, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“You alright?” he asks, words kept light above the underlying concern.

Jared can't help but laugh. It's just so Jensen, to have spent the last two months missing and half-starved and think that Jared is the one who needs worried about. “I'm fine,” he says, voice betraying the words with an obvious shake. “I'm good.”

Jensen looks less than convinced, but nods anyway.

“I...” Jared starts before breaking off. There is an awkwardness between them that Jared isn't accustomed to, but there really isn't a class in school for how to deal with this sort of thing. Jared is just so awestruck that Jensen is here right now, that he's even alive right now, that words refuse to come to him.

In all honesty, Jared would love to just pivot around in his seat and all-out stare at Jensen, drinking in every aspect of him. He wants to catalog every change on Jensen's body, wants to pull him in his arms and hold him. He wants to listen to Jensen's heartbeat, wants to feel the thump thump of his pulse against his skin. Jared just wants every possible proof in the world that this is real, that he isn't just making this up.

There's a possibility that this is all fake, that Jared has finally lost it and is locked in a padded room somewhere, lost in some delusion. The thing is, even if this is a delusion, even if this is somehow not real, he has more of Jensen than he ever thought he would have again.

If he's crazy, commit him. Because he isn't giving this up.

___________________________

Donna insists on making dinner, though everyone tells her that really isn't necessary. She combats their protests with a tearful, “But my baby is home.” That does a good job of shutting everyone up.

The silence is pervasive, like everyone is so concerned this moment is made of glass that even speaking a word will take it back. It's like everyone is too concerned the universe is playing some cruel joke on them to even speak, like the act alone will reverse everything this day has brought them.

Jensen’s dad makes a few anger-fueled declarations, heartfelt promises to call a lawyer in the morning and “sue the shit out of those bastards.” Who “those bastards” are exactly, Jared isn’t quite sure. The police. The city. Everyone in the greater Austin area, possibly the entire Western hemisphere. The threat is unclear, but they all nod along in quiet agreement.

Someone needs to pay. Everyone needs to pay.

“How are you feeling?” Mackenzie manages eventually, breaking the sense of vengeance that has descended upon the dinner table. She has been idly pushing her food around on her plate throughout the meal, eyes locked on her brother. She looks paler than usual, the dark circles she has collected within the last couple months standing out in stark contrast to the red that rims her eyes. She looks broken, but glowing, like the light in her world has finally come back on and she can start living again. 

“Good,” Jensen says, shooting her a reassuring smile. “Really. A bit tired, but that will get better. Just glad to be home.” Jared feels himself react, face twisting into a watery smile along with everyone else in the room. 

Home. Jensen's home.

___________________________

There is kind of the unspoken agreement amongst the Ackles family that Jensen will be staying here with them. It's said in the way Alan keeps checking the locks on the doors and windows, making sure they are secured for the night. It's said with Donna's promise to make Jensen's favorite dinner tomorrow, in her offhanded comment that Jensen's room is the same as he left it, bed and all. It's said in the way Mackenzie keeps settling close to Jensen's side, like if he were to step out the door even just for a breath of fresh air, she would flip.

And Jared, he understands. He even thinks it's for the best, considering the situation. The last thing he wants to do is take Jensen away from his family, to deny them the comfort he feels having him in their presence.

Jared can't ignore the feeling, however, that he isn't quite sure where he fits in this plan. He knows there came a certain acceptance of the relationship he and Jensen shared with time, that Jensen's family had accepted him more and more each day. After Jensen passed, there were more outspoken declarations of acceptance, all of which reached their peak with the exchange Jared had with Alan in the living room that day a couple weeks ago.

Jared thinks it's an unspoken rule that he and Jensen are a packaged deal, but when it comes time to think about turning in for the night, he isn't quite sure where he'll rest his head.

And that isn't quite true. He's sure, with a fiery certainty, that he will not be leaving this place tonight. He won't be going home, because his home is here, right by Jensen's side. Still, he is drained to the point of nothing, and the prospect of having to fight Jensen's family to stay where he belongs is one he doesn’t want to face.

Luckily, Donna turns to him as Mackenzie wraps her arms around her brother to tell him goodnight and says, “I think it's for the best that Jensen stays here a while. You are absolutely welcome to stay as long as you want, Jared. Okay? I mean that. All I ask is that you leave the door open a smidge, so I can peek in and check on him at night, alright?”

Jared nods, fully understanding the need to check and make sure this is really real, that Jensen isn't a cruel dream.

Still, he's so afraid of waking up that he can't imagine he'll be sleeping much tonight.

___________________________

They're in Jensen's old room all of two seconds before Jensen spins him against the wall and crashes his mouth against his. The kiss lands with such bruising force that at first it's just a painful clash of skin and teeth, so uncoordinated that it almost feels like a punch to the face. Jensen's entire body falls against his, and he darts a hand out to brace himself before pulling back slightly.

By this point Jared's brain has caught up to what's going on, and he snakes a hand up to cup Jensen's jaw. He cradles Jensen's face in that hand, steadying the kiss to become less painful and more enjoyable. Jensen deepens it almost immediately, sneaking his tongue in Jared's mouth with a desperation that surprises Jared. He feels like he's moving in slow motion, like Jensen's the only thing moving in real time and he's struggling to catch up. When he does, though, it's good, and it doesn't take long for the kiss to reach full on make out status, each of them grasping and pulling at one another like they're starving for it.

Jensen is the one that finally pulls back, staring at him with eyes wide and almost crazed. Running a hand over the back of his mouth, his stare shifts serious.

“We okay?” he asks, breathless and, suddenly, Jared is running to catch up.

“What?” Jared breathes, furrowing his brow, honestly confused.

“You and me,” Jensen clarifies, gesturing between the two of them. “Are we okay?”

Jensen makes no more sense in trying to explain his question than he did the first time. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like... are we alright?” Jensen says, running a hand over his hair in frustration. “Are you mad at me?”

This time, Jared full on gapes. “Why would I be mad?” Being mad is the pretty much the furthest thing from Jared's mind right now. His mood right now is somewhere between I'm so happy I might actually die and hey, I just won the lottery.

“The last time we saw each other. You were pissed.”

And, really, Jared loves Jensen. Always has. Always will. But the absurdity of that statement amongst everything that has happened between then and now is just so ridiculous that Jared can't help but look at him like he is the dumbest person he has ever met.

“You think I'm... holy fuck, Jensen. Are you serious?”

“I don't know,” Jensen cries, throwing his hands up in the air. “I just wanted to make sure-”

“You wanted to make sure right after you shove your tongue down my throat?” Jared asks, still staring at Jensen like he has grown a second head. This time, a giddy laugh is bubbling in his throat and Jensen gives him a look as he bursts into full out laughter, feigning more annoyance than the smile he's trying to hide warrants.

“Well, you know,” Jensen shrugs, sheepishly scratching at the back of his neck. He's blushing, just ever so slightly beneath his thick tan, and in that moment Jared is struck not for the first time with how fucking beautiful he is. He's perfect, literally everything he wants in the world in one person, and somehow he's here. Somehow, his prayers were answered and Jensen is standing in front of him, eyes alit with life. Somehow, Jensen came back for him.

“Fuck,” Jared caves, reaching out and pulling Jensen to his chest. He wraps his arms around him as tightly as he can, burying his face in his neck. “I love you, Jensen. I love you so fucking much and I missed you, and fuck-”

“It's alright,” Jensen reassures, sensing Jared is on the edge of a breakdown. “I'm here.”

The truth of that is so painfully amazing that a sob escapes Jared's throat, and Jensen just holds him with strong arms, hands rubbing calming circles on his back.

“I missed you so much,” Jared whispers, so miserably broken from the nightmare he has woken up from that he can't even pretend to hold himself together any longer. “Fuck. I couldn’t breathe without you. It was like I couldn’t even breathe.”

Jensen's response is to hold him just that much tighter.

___________________________

“You tired?” Jared asks as Jensen snuggles against him, resting his cheek on Jared's chest. Jared curls his arm around him, soaking in the solid warmth of his boyfriend at his side.

“Exhausted,” Jensen admits on a long exhale, eyes slipping shut once more.

“Then sleep.” Jared isn't naïve enough to believe that Jensen is awake right now for anything other than Jared's own benefit. The doctors said that what Jensen's body needs most right now is lots of sleep and good nutrition, and he'll be damned if Jensen gets anything less based on some misguided need to put Jared's needs before his own.

Sighing, Jensen snuggles a bit closer.

Full minutes pass in silence, and Jared is positive Jensen has fallen asleep. Taking advantage of the state of unconsciousness, Jared shamelessly stares at the boy. Up close, Jared can count the freckles on Jensen's nose, across his cheeks. He's glad to know that they are still there, still part of the Jensen he remembers beneath the change the last couple of months have brought him.

Jensen startles Jared moments later. “Stop staring, you freak.”

Surprised laughter escapes Jared, as foreign as it is familiar. He can't remember the last time he laughed, previous to tonight, can't remember the last time he smiled this much. It's him sitting in a place he has been dying to get back to, resting amongst the comfort and happiness just being in the same room as Jensen brings him.

“I can't help it, princess,” he smiles, raking his fingers over the back of Jensen's head. “You're just so damn pretty.”

Snorting, Jensen shakes his head against Jared's chest. “Go to sleep, Jay. I'll still be here when you wake up.”

Half an hour later, and Jared's fast asleep, fingers skimming delicately over the pulse point beneath Jensen's jaw. Strong and steady. Real and sure.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Despite the demands of swimming for their university, Jensen and Jared have a solid relationship build on half a lifetime of friendship. The last thing either of them expected was to have their perfect life together cut short by a tragic accident, leaving Jensen dead and Jared drowning in grief. In the midst of his despair, however, Jared soon realizes that everything is not as it seems. Another shocking revelation leaves Jared speechless and grasping to salvage the life he thought had become forever out of reach.

Jared wakes up to light streaming through blinds, sheer curtains allowing the dark room to be sheathed in the brightness of a new day. Grogginess blurs his thoughts and his vision, and it takes him a moment to figure out where he is. 

And that's when panic sets in.

He remembers going to sleep, remembers Jensen asleep, curled against him, and life seeming livable again. He remembers Jensen being here, right here. But now he isn't, now he's gone, and maybe Jensen was never really there at all, maybe-

Flailing his arms out, Jared hears an oomph in protest from beside him on the bed. Whipping around, he sees Jensen's body lying beside him on the bed, staring at him with sleep-slit eyes.

“Sorry!” Jared winces, reaching over to paw at Jensen. He wraps an arm around him, rolling so he's caging him into the side of his chest with that arm, stomach firmly planted on the mattress. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean-”

“It's fine,” Jensen reassures him, voice heavy with sleep. He snuggles forward and rests forehead against Jared's. “Just go back to sleep.”

Exhaustion and contentment settling bone deep, Jared drifts off into another dreamless sleep.

___________________________

The day passes in a blur of cautious happiness and uncontrollable relief. 

It's spent in close quarters with Jensen's family, and Jared takes a certain pleasure in seeing the happiness reflected in their eyes, in every interaction with Jensen. 

It's due in part to the kinship he has felt with them over the past couple months, the level of understanding they shared that no one else could really reach. No one loved Jensen more than them, no one hurt as much as they did. There was a certain comfort that came in feeling that pain together, in knowing that other people were suffering to a similar level as he was. It was comforting in the same way that it was almost too much to deal with, seeing his pain reflected in the pain of someone else.

The enjoyment he is taking from watching the happiness that stems from spending time with Jensen is also due to the fact that his own heart swells with love for him, that Jensen makes him happy in a way no one else ever has. There's a specific type of enjoyment that comes from others recognizing the same things in Jensen that Jared does and loving them just as much. It's selfless in a way that Jared so rarely is with Jensen, but he's so grateful to have these minutes, these seconds with him that it doesn't matter.

He isn't so selfless, though, that he can completely restrain the urge to take Jensen upstairs with him and keep him all to himself. The want is there, twisting and ugly. It's selfish, and Jared knows it, but that doesn't keep him from thinking on fleeting moments that he wishes he could have Jensen all to himself.

Jared has something now, though, that he hasn't had in a while, something he shares with Jensen and treasures more than ever. Time.

__________________________________

Donna starts calling family that night.

Jared sits on the couch with Mackenzie and watches each phone call unfold with a sick fascination.

There’s a certain formula involved, Jared realizes, after watching a couple calls. Donna settles into a rhythm, the words mirroring each other across multiple calls. There’s the telling, the disbelief, the refuting. She doesn’t put the calls on speakerphone, not until the inevitable portion of the call where the person on the other end wants to speak to Jensen themselves, to speak to the proof that Donna hasn’t completely lost it.

There’s crying, lots of it, and Jensen shoots Jared helpless looks throughout each conversation, throughout each tear-filled reunion.

By the time they get to Jared’s mother, Donna has it down to such a science Jared thinks it would be irresponsible, frankly, to attempt the call himself. He crawls to sit on the floor at Jensen’s feet, one of Jensen’s hands tangling with his own while his other hand cards familiarly through Jared’s hair. Jared closes his eyes and listens to Donna work her magic.

“Hello?”

“Sherri, hi,” Donna greets, voice upbeat. “This is Donna.”

“Donna!” Jared’s mother says, her voice edged with worry. “Is everything okay? Is Jared with you? Have you heard from him? He hasn’t been responding to any of my calls.”

Jared winces as that. He knew he was forgetting something.

“Nice job,” Jensen teases quietly, fingers tangling in Jared’s hair and yanking his head back to meet his eyes.

“Shh,” Jared hisses, offering a sloppy smile as Jensen makes a face and flicks the bridge of Jared’s nose with his middle and index fingers. Jared, for his part, bites at his boyfriend’s fingers. Jensen shakes his head, smiling.

The call ends with tears, as was expected, and Jared’s mom just keeps repeating, “Oh, thank god. Thank god.”

Jared couldn’t agree more.

___________________________

 

Jared has always been the type for separation anxiety.

His mom will tell you stories of him growing up, how he nearly caused a riot in preschool the first time he realized his mom had stepped outside and might not be coming back. He doesn't do well alone, and that doesn't make him needy. Really, it doesn't.

Sometimes, though, it does.

“Hey, Jen?” he asks later that night, head cushioned on the sharp angles of Jensen's rib cage. He feels the reverberations against his cheek as Jensen hums in response, fingers tangled in the hair at the base of Jared's neck. 

“I think I'm going to take a shower,” he murmurs, eyes slipping shut. It's late, past midnight, and everyone else went to sleep a while ago. 

“K.”

“Can you, um,” Jared starts, feeling too embarrassed to finish his thought.

“What?” Jensen prods softly, fingertips skimming the skin of his neck. Jared shivers.

“It's really dumb,” Jared stalls, burying his face in the fabric of Jensen's shirt.

“Try me.”

“Do you think you could, like. Come sit in the bathroom with me, maybe? Just like sit there. Keep me company?” he feels his face burning hot with the flush of a blush, and he regrets how stupid he sounds, how childlike.

“You need me to keep you company in the shower?” Jensen repeats, teasing note to his tone.

“Just, you know.” Don't want to leave you.

Jensen seems to understand that, unspoken as it might be, and humors Jared by trailing him into the bathroom and shutting the door. He closes the toilet seat and situates himself on the lid, watching Jared expectantly.

Jensen has seen him thousands of times, in every possible state of undress. Still, an unfamiliar shyness overtakes Jared. He hasn't exactly been working out lately, and even though he has been dropping pounds with the casualness that some drop names, he still feels less than confident about the way his body looks. Jensen doesn't give him the courtesy of looking away, and Jared pretends not to blush as he strips down and climbs into the shower.

It doesn't take more than a minute for the curtain to rustle, for Jensen to climb in butt ass naked and snake his arms around Jared from behind.

“Hey,” Jared says, surprise evident in his voice as he leans back in his boyfriend's arms. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I'm not the bench-warming type,” Jensen smirks, spinning Jared around to kiss him. His fingers skim Jared's jaw, pressing gently as they play across his chin, his neck his chest. Jared deepens the kiss, stifling a moan as Jensen surges back into it. The same desperation from the night before enters the mix, but this time it's Jensen with his back to the wall.

Jared drops kisses across Jensen's collar bone, across his face, at the apex of his ear. Jensen smiles against his lips, fingers gently pushing Jared back before he goes to drop to his knees.

“Nuh uh,” Jared shakes his head. The surprise is evident across Jensen’s features as Jared hauls him back up to his feet. Jared plants another bruising kiss to his lips, tongue playing against Jensen's as he reaches a hand between them. He takes Jensen's dick in one hand, the other skimming lightly over his own.

“Hand jobs?” Jensen chuckles, catching Jared's bottom lip between his teeth. “What are we, fifteen?” The words are all sass, but Jensen's voice betrays him. He's breathing harder now, air hitching in his throat when Jared cocks his wrist a certain way.

“Sixteen, at least,” Jared jokes, his response a throaty whisper as Jensen takes him into his hand, jacking him long and slow, just the way he likes it. He nips at Jensen's mouth, placing a sloppy kiss to his nose as he rolls his shoulders back, head lolling against Jensen's forehead in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he curses a little louder than intended.

“Shh,” Jensen smiles, nudging Jared’s head to the side to suck a sweet spot at the underside of his jaw. He quickens the pace of his hand against Jared, finger skimming over the tip in a way that makes Jared take a sharp intake of breath, choked off moan swelling in the back of his throat. “Gotta be quiet, Jare. Someone might hear us.”

Then let them hear us, Jared thinks. Let the whole damned world hear us.

At a particularly good flick of the wrist, Jared chokes off a moan, slapping his hand on the tiled wall of the shower to brace himself as his knees threaten to go out.

“Hey,” Jensen warns, nipping a quick bite to the edge of Jared’s jaw.

“I slipped,” Jared lies, flashing a sheepish smile and grinning when Jensen shakes his head in fondness. He stumbles closer to Jensen once more, pinning him against the far wall of the shower with a resounding bang.

Jensen opens his mouth to protest once more, but Jared’s mouth is on his in an instant, stifling the scolding he know is coming with a deeply drawn kiss, wet and bruising.

It doesn't take long for the both of them to slip over the edge, crashing hard like it's their first time.

“Fuck baby,” Jensen says, sounding so thoroughly fucked out that Jared's dick twitches again with interest. “So good.”

“Mmm,” Jared hums in agreement, burying his face in the crook of Jensen’s neck.

“Love you,” Jared whispers, clumsily stumbling them forward into the shower wall, arms holding Jensen tight.

“Love you more,” Jensen smiles, teasing, like he's daring Jared to call him on his cheesiness.

Jared doesn't call him on it, won't. He also won't call him on the fact that he's wrong.

___________________________

Jensen may or may not have a hickey bruised into the underside of his jaw the next morning, stark as a black mark on white paper.

Jared may or may not have kiss-swollen lips, split by a bite mark that may or may not match Jensen's.

Donna shakes her head when she sees them, knowing smile playing at the corner of her lips.

“Sleep well, boys?” she asks when they arrive at the dinner table, looking a bit worse for their well.

“Sure did,” Jensen says, flashing her a smile so wide that Jared chokes back a chuckle.

Jared feels a soft kick to his ankle, and his first thought is that Jensen is trying to play footsie with him, like they're seventh graders pulling one another’s pigtails on the playground. The foot actually belongs to Mackenzie, though, who looks equal parts fond and exasperated.

Alan changes the topic to something he read in the paper, but doesn't look altogether uncomfortable.

It's a good morning.

___________________________

After breakfast, Donna excuses herself to go make more phone calls and Alan gets pulled away by a call from his lawyer, leaving Jared at the table with Mackenzie and Jared.

“So did that just happen?” Jensen asks after a beat, his eyes wide.

“Did what just happen?” Mackenzie asks as she settles back into her chair, stirring another cup of coffee.

“That,” Jensen says, gesturing vaguely. “Dad. Not freaking out about,” he gestures again, this time in the general direction of his neck, of the mark that Jared left on him the night before.

“Sure did,” Mackenzie nods, licking the spoon before setting it back on her napkin.

Jensen stares at the casualness in her reaction before turning his attention to Jared, eyes wide and questioning.

“He’s… calmed down a lot,” Jared says, unsure how to sum up the change in Jensen’s father’s demeanor that must seem monumental to Jensen. 

Alan was never outright hateful, never spewed any of the words of hatred Jared has come to expect from some of the more outspoken folks around town. But there had always been a casual disapproval underlying Jensen’s father’s actions, a quick look away when he saw them together or an uncomfortable clearing of the throat. To see his father sit there amongst such glaring proof looking fairly comfortable and accepting must be a real trip for Jensen.

“He realized that it wasn’t worth losing his son over,” Mackenzie says, instantly cringing at her choice of words. They had all lost Jensen, and it had nothing to do with Alan’s disapproval.

“He, uh. He apologized to me a couple weeks ago,” Jared offers, on instinct of not letting those words hang in the air. Jensen’s attention snaps to him immediately, curiosity overtaking every feature. “For how he acted. He said he wished he had acted differently, that he wished he had realized what was really important.”

He said he’d be honored to have me as his son-in-law, Jared thinks, but it’s information that falls by the wayside as he watches Jensen process the information he has already gathered. 

“Huh,” he says, eyes glancing off into the distance.

The “what else has changed?” is unspoken.

___________________________

 

The news hits that night.

Jared knows the exact minute it happens. He’s watching some dumb movie with Jensen and Mackenzie, attention more on the way Jensen’s head rests on the pillow against his thigh than on the screen itself. The shrill ring of Jared’s iPhone causes Jensen to jump, shooting Jared a sheepish smile after a beat as he realizes the source.

“Meh,” Jared shrugs, uninterested in moving from the small crater he has created in the big leather couch. Jensen smirks and rolls his eyes before settling back against the pillow. Almost immediately after the phone signals that he has a voicemail, it beeps multiple times from texts in rapid succession before starting to ring again.

“Jesus,” he mumbles, moving to get up from the couch. It’s at that moment that he hears Mackenzie’s phone launch into a Justin Timberlake song from across the room, ringtone clashing with the Black Keys one he has on his own phone.

“Shit,” she breathes, stopping Jared’s heart momentarily. “Turn to channel seven. The news is breaking.”

Jared feels Jensen tense against him as he fumbles for the remote, glancing to his boyfriend before shakily punching in the number.

The room changes in that instant. The screen switches from cool shades of blue to stark white against earthy brown, to live footage of a massive white building with neat rows of greening crops stretching into the field beyond. There’s a news anchor talking, a woman with large, perfectly manicured blonde hair and a fake tan, and the words on the bottom of the screen stand in harsh contrast. 

White on blue. Five words. Raid Outside Laredo, Suspected Trafficking and, in smaller script below, trafficking ring falsified deaths.

Jared is so entranced with the images on the screen that it takes a moment for him to notice Jensen has also changed. One glance reveals he’s now perched on the edge of his seat, back stick straight. He’s gone pale underneath his tan, attention fixated on the screen with a stricken look on his face.

“Jen?” Jared murmurs, reaching out to touch Jensen’s arm. He quickly withdraws his hand when Jensen starts at the touch, jumping and meeting Jared’s stare with wide eyes.

“Whoa. Hey, s’alright,” Jared soothes automatically, watching as Jensen nods his head and visibly relaxes, though not completely. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jensen nods, clearing his throat. His fingers skim over his hair, a nervous gesture, and the set of his shoulders are still set tense in discomfort. Jared frowns and reaches out for his boyfriend once more, this time under Jensen’s careful watch.

“C’mere,” he coaxes, snaking an arm around Jensen’s shoulders. Jensen hesitates briefly, but after a moment he allows himself to be pulled against Jared’s side, sagging heavily into the hold.

“You okay? We don’t have to watch this,” Jared murmurs, though his own eyes itch to return to the screen. He wants to see everything, wants to see where his boyfriend was in those months Jared was morning his death. He wants to know, wants to learn. He has Jensen in his arms, warm and alive, and part of him needs to know where Jensen was when he was dead.

Not dead, Jared reminds himself. Never dead.

“It’s alright,” Jensen mumbles in response to Jared’s question. “I don’t-“

“Hey, your aunt Shelley says-” Donna interrupts, all but running into the living room where Jared, Jensen, and Mackenzie sit, eyes glued on the screen. “Oh. You’ve already got it on.”

Jared watches as Donna blindly gropes for a seat on the arm of the couch near Jensen, Alan at her heels to take a seat beside Mackenzie.

There’s noise: phones going off, people talking, the drone of the reporter. All Jared can focus on, however, is the way Jensen keeps burrowing further and further into his side.

Jared’s grip tightens on him just that much more. He might not be able to protect him from this, but he can sure try.

___________________________

That night, Jensen is quiet.

Amongst all the bustle, it goes largely unnoticed. Donna talks constantly, huffing about questionable facts the anchor presents and conveying information others have relayed to her. Alan sits mostly quiet, scrutinizing the screen and nodding along with Donna’s remarks. 

Mackenzie alternates between showing off her zillion-word a minute texting prowess and taking phone calls that generally result in high-pitched squealing. For all the maturity she showed in the face of Jensen’s death, Jared sometimes forgets she’s still a seventeen-year-old girl. 

Jensen, still nestled in the crook of Jared’s arm, watches the scene unfold in his peripheral, his eyes still largely fixated on the television. Jared alternates between watching the screen along with him and just watching Jensen. Jensen isn’t giving him much in his reactions, mostly because he isn’t giving a reaction. He’s carefully blank, something that scares Jared more than something more outspoken ever could.

Because Jensen isn’t quiet. Jensen isn’t understated. Jensen is loud and bright. Jensen lights up ever room he steps into, brings all the attention in the world to himself without ever meaning to. He’s just that person, that person who everyone wants to be around because he’s invaluable, different in a way that draws people to him.

For Jared, though, the only thing Jensen is drawing right now is concern.

So far, Jensen has successfully shrugged off the concern of everyone in the room but Jared by dismissing his quietness as being tired. Maybe it’s because Jared has a tethered line in the form of where their bodies touch, but Jared can feel something is off. Can feel it in his bones, in every cell of his body.

He’ll be okay, Jared tells himself, lips pressed so tightly his mouth is a nothing but firm line. It’s just a lot for him right now. It will be okay.

But Jared can see the cracks forming in Jensen’s foundation, can see the effects of this experience drawing heavily on Jensen. He didn’t see them before, and he isn’t sure if that’s because he wasn’t looking or because he was so blind with glee that it slipped by him without notice. But Jensen isn’t okay. For once, Jared is struck with the fear that no matter how tightly he holds Jensen, it might not be enough to hold him together.

And the thought terrifies him.

___________________________

“Dude, just answer it.”

Jared shoots Jensen a glance as his finger skirts over the screen of his iPhone, about to ignore Chad’s call for the tenth time tonight.

“Are you sure? I-“

“Yes, I’m sure,” Jensen sighs, palms skimming over his eyes. “You answer the phone, I’ll grab a shower. Deal?”

Jared frowns at the distinct lack of invitation for him to join Jensen, but figures his boyfriend might just want a few minutes to himself. Jensen has had exactly zero minutes of alone time since he has gotten home, save for bathroom breaks and sometimes not even then. He probably needs the time almost as much as Chad needs to stop calling Jared.

“Alright,” Jared reluctantly agrees, watching as Jensen climbs from his bed. He reaches out to skim his fingers along the inside of Jensen’s wrist, smiling as Jensen shoots a small smile over his shoulder in response.

Watching Jensen go, Jared sighs as his ringtone rolls over once more.

“Hello?” 

“Jesus Christ, man, learn to answer your fucking phone,” Chad barks in lieu of greeting, causing Jared to roll his eyes.

“Looks like I just did.”

“Apparently,” Chad grumbles. “Only took you six hours. Look, all this shit. On the TV? This Breaking Bad-level bullshit? Is it true?”

“I wouldn’t say Breaking Bad-”

“Jared.”

“What?”

“Is it true?”

“Depends what you heard,” Jared sighs. He’d gotten a variety of texts from just about everyone he had ever met, ranging from Omg, is Jensen alive? to Was Jensen making meth!?! There was also a healthy dose of Wtf people are saying Jensen’s alive. Wtf man, just keeping you updated on this bs, which Jared supposes he appreciates, given the circumstances.

The thing is, even though Jensen’s name hasn’t been released in any of the press releases or news briefings, word gets around. Somehow, even in a town as big, one betrayed but you can’t tell anyone easily turns into everyone and their mother knowing about what happened. Or some version of it, anyway.

“What I heard?” Chad continues, voice fluctuating wildly, like he can barely contain himself. “I heard Jensen’s alive, man. Let’s start there. And please tell me it’s true, because I’m going to feel like a real dick if-”

“Yeah, I-“

“Yeah? Yeah as in yeah, or-”

“Yeah as in yeah. He’s here.”

There’s a silence that follows, and for a second Jared thinks the call has been dropped.

Then, “You’re shitting me.”

Jared snorts. “I’m not.”

“You are fucking shitting me.” Chad has always been an eloquent one.

“I’m really not, man,” Jared sighs, wishing for not the first time that this whole thing was over, that everything was over and he and Jensen could get on with their lives. He can appreciate the shock, is probably still in that stage a bit himself, but after a while, it gets a bit tiresome.

“No. That’s, that’s completely crazy, Jay,” Chad continues, disbelief heavy in his tone.

“I know. But it’s true.”

“You can’t be-“

“What do you need?” Jared interrupts, patience effectively depleted.

“What?”

“What do you need? To believe me.”

“I… um… to talk to him, I guess?”

“He’s in the shower,” Jared murmurs, fumbling with his phone. “Here. I’ll send you a picture.” He backs out of the call on the screen, selecting one of the photos he’d taken with Jensen last night. In the photo, they’re both smiling, faces smished together at the cheek.

“There,” he says once the message has been sent. “There’s your proof.”

“Just a second, I.” The sound of shuffling fills the air. “Oh. Well, that could have been from whenever.”

“It’s not,” Jared grits out, messing with the blankets on Jensen’s bed with a little more force than necessary.

“Jared-”

“Why would I lie about this?” Jared snaps.

“I don’t know, man, it’s just crazy. You’ve got to know it sounds crazy.”

“Chad, I-“

“Hey Chad,” Jensen interrupts, entering the room while scrubbing his towel over his damp hair. His skin is especially pink, and he flashes Jared a distracted smile as he starts to rummage in the pile of clothes Jensen’s dad retrieved from their apartment.

“What. Dude. Holy shit! Who is that?” Chad sputters, in keeping with his streak of well-spokeness. 

“Who does it sound like?” Jared smiles, mood approved now that Jensen is back. When he glances back at his boyfriend, he’s already dressed from the bottom up and making work at tugging a soft gray shirt over his head. 

“No, dude, I-”

“Chad,” Jensen smiles, leaning over Jared’s upper arm to speak at the phone. “It’s Jensen. Good to hear from you, man, but Jare and I are headed to bed. So talk to you later?” Jared bites the smile at his lower lip, skimming his fingers over the back of Jensen’s neck.

“Bye Chad,” Jared says, clicking off the phone at the sound of his friend sputtering on the other end of the line.

Once the phone is off, Jared turns his attention to Jensen, reaching out to pull him close. To his surprise, Jensen doesn’t step into the offer, instead turning back to the bed and fussing with the comforter.

“I’m shot, Jay,” he mumbles, pulling the covers back to crawl in. “Can we just hit the sack?”

Jared, taken aback at the sudden coolness, bobbles his head in dumbstruck agreement. 

He numbly follows suit, crawling into bed and staring at Jensen’s back, decidedly turned to him from where Jensen is perched at the edge of the mattress.

Jared closes his eyes and tries not to think.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Despite the demands of swimming for their university, Jensen and Jared have a solid relationship build on half a lifetime of friendship. The last thing either of them expected was to have their perfect life together cut short by a tragic accident, leaving Jensen dead and Jared drowning in grief. In the midst of his despair, however, Jared soon realizes that everything is not as it seems. Another shocking revelation leaves Jared speechless and grasping to salvage the life he thought had become forever out of reach.

Jared had hoped Jensen brushing him off that night had just been a side effect of an overwhelming day, and that a good night’s sleep would fix the situation right up.

It doesn’t.

The better part of the next week is spent with Jensen wedging spaces between them and Jared leaping and bounding to catch up. He isn’t outright cold, doesn’t tell Jared to leave or back off or anything like that. It’s more covert than that, and, as a result, more unsettling.

Jensen gets up early and goes to sleep early. He’s out of bed before Jared is even awake, and pretends to be asleep at night even though they both know he isn’t. His smiles to Jared are awkward, their interactions suddenly stilted and shallow.

Jared wants to say something, almost does, but the wary look in Jensen’s eyes stops him every time. There’s an unspoken please, there, a silent plea to not push, to let things be for once.

So Jared gives him the space, hovering slightly behind, like a parent whose kid is riding his bike for the first time without training wheels. Jared is there and Jensen knows it, knows he’s there with arms open, ready to catch him if he falls.

Jared just isn’t sure if Jensen will let him.

___________________________

On Tuesday, Jensen has his first appointment with his therapist. Her name is Theresa, and it’s on the recommendation of the lawyer Alan hired.

Jared drives him while Alan and Donna meet with said lawyer, the ride quiet and filled with a sense of trepidation. Jensen hadn’t been too keen on the idea when his parents had told him of the appointment, and judging by the rigid set of Jensen in the passenger seat, he still isn’t.

The appointment takes a little over an hour, which Jared spends sitting in the lobby with his nose buried in an issue of Men’s Health. Despite appearances, Jared isn’t actually that interested in “The Ten Hottest Words to Say to a Woman”, though he has been staring at the page for the better part of an hour. His mind is on Jensen, on what he’s saying and how he’s feeling and if he’s okay without him.

Jared knows it’s wrong, but he’s a little jealous of the idea of Jensen talking to Theresa. Jensen has been back a week and a half and has told him virtually nothing of the time he spent away. What he has told Jared has been in pieces and fragments, in little hints dropped here and there like broken shards of glass. Jared has to handle those pieces carefully, knows that too harsh a touch will slice the line of communication and Jensen won’t say another word. 

So, yeah, the fact that Jensen is talking to a total stranger about things he won’t even tell Jared is a little annoying. If it will help, though, Jared is all for it. He just wants Jensen back.

Jensen emerges from the heavy door way a bit later, looking a little pale and frazzled. Jared stands, a frown etching his features, and waits for Jensen’s wide eyes to meet his before stepping closer.

“You okay?” he asks, reaching out to touch Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen tolerates the touch for about three seconds before shrugging it off, nodding his head.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

“Oh. Well, yeah. That’s understandable,” Jared nods, though he knows there has to be more to it than that. “I-”

“Can we go?” Jensen interrupts, eyes sweeping along the lobby. Every aspect of himself conveys uneasiness, from the nervous shuffle of his feet to the tense set of his shoulders.

“Uh, yeah,” Jared murmurs, gesturing towards the door. Jensen pushes past him, shoving the glass door to the clinic open. An older gentleman in a suit makes quick time to put himself between Jensen and Jared, accidentally skimming the back of Jensen’s jacket as he reaches for the door.

The scene plays like slow motion, though Jensen whips around fast enough that Jared can’t reach him in time. By the time Jared reaches him, he is drawing a fist, ready to pop the poor guy in the nose.

“Hey,” Jared breathes, reaching for his arm, careful and slow. “Hey, Jen. It’s okay. It was an accident.”

Jensen spins out of Jared’s grasp and stomps off to the car so quickly that Jared is left standing momentarily with the man Jensen nearly clocked, who looks just as bewildered as Jared feels. Jared offers him an awkward smile before turning on his heel and taking off in the direction Jensen went.

Sliding into the seat of his car, Jared is ready to confront his boyfriend about what exactly that was he just witnessed. What he sees, though, stalls his heart.

Jensen is leaned forward with his forehead resting against his arms on the dashboard, gasping for breath. The realization comes that Jensen is hyperventilating, that he’s having an anxiety attack of some sort, and Jared is snapped into action.

“Whoa, hey,” Jared murmurs, reaching his hand out to rest lightly between Jensen’s shoulder blades. “You’re okay. Breathe, okay?”

He thinks he hears Jensen snort at that, but he also hears him drawn in breaths, slow and even, if not a little shaky.

It takes a minute for Jensen’s breath to even out completely, his head still resting on the dash. Jared lightly rubs calming circles on his back, letting his boyfriend know he isn’t alone.

Finally, Jensen sits up, letting out a shaky breath.

“Are you okay?” Jared asks. He has been asking that a lot lately.

There’s a long moment before Jensen answers with a resolute nod, still avoiding Jared’s eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Jared wants to dispute that obvious lie, wants to talk about how Jensen just had a panic attack in a parking lot and nearly punched out someone’s grandpa.

“Are you sure? Maybe we should-”

“It’s fine, Jared,” Jensen snaps, cutting him off midsentence. “Just leave it. Let’s go.”

Jared purses his lips but puts the car in drive. He waits a couple of minutes before speaking again. “You know, we’ll have to talk about this eventually.”

The resounding silence is an answer just the same.

___________________________

On Thursday, Jensen has another appointment with Theresa. Jared isn’t sure if that’s normal, to have two appointments in the same week, but after the episode the other day in the clinic parking lot, he thinks it’s maybe not a bad idea.

This time, a woman in her early twenties and a fashionable suit calls him back into the room about an hour into the appointment, and Jared is coaxed into sitting on the comfortable couch beside a decidedly uncomfortable-looking Jensen.

“Hello,” the woman on facing chair greets. She’s pretty, probably in her forties with a warm complexion and a friendly smile. “I’m Theresa, Jensen’s therapist. And you must be Jared?”

“Yes,” Jared says, fidgeting in his seat. Though the woman seems nice, he can feel her critiquing him, watching his every move. “I, um.”

“I just wanted to meet and touch base with you,” Theresa smiles, glancing between him and Jensen. “Since you’re an important part of Jensen’s life.”

Jared smiles awkwardly at that, glancing to Jensen, who seems very interested in the stain on the coffee table in front of him.

“Just to clarify,” Theresa continues, flipping through her notepad before resting on a page. “Are you seeing anyone? A therapist, I mean?”

“No,” Jared says, sitting up a little straighter. What exactly did Jensen tell her?

“Have you considered doing so?”

“No, I,” he starts, shooting a look towards Jensen. “I was supposed to meet with someone. A grief counselor. But that never happened.”

“Why not?”

“I was. Um,” Jared starts, feeling Jensen’s eyes on him. “I wasn’t ready yet. I was too upset.”

“That’s understandable,” Theresa nods, jotting something down. “It might be a good idea. You’ve been through a lot. I can list some references for you.”

Jared purses his lips, unsure how to take the suggestion. “Okay.”

“Also, I just wanted to tell you about Jensen’s little homework assignment,” she says, setting her pen down. “By next session. I’d like for him to talk to you a bit about what happened, while he was gone. It doesn’t have to be in Technicolor detail, but whatever he is comfortable telling you, I’d like for you to listen. Does that sound doable?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Jared nods, more enthusiastic about this suggestion than the previous.

“Fantastic,” Theresa smiles widely. “Let me get those names for you.” With that, she steps out of the room, leaving he and Jensen in awkward quiet.

“She seems nice,” Jared says, clearing his throat, just to break the silence.

“She is,” Jensen agrees, which is more of an endorsement than Jared thought he give her.

After a minute, Theresa returns with a paper and neatly written shortlist of therapists Jared should look into.

This time, they leave without incident.

___________________________

Jensen and Jared tip toe awkwardly around each other for two days, the ever present threat of The Talk looming overhead. On Saturday night, after an hour spent lying awake in silence, Jensen sits up and flips on the light.

“Alright, screw this,” he grumbles, turning to face Jared in the bed, sitting cross-legged. “Let’s do this.”

“Huh?” Jared asks, squinting in the sudden light of the bedroom. He struggles to sit up in bed, eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

“Let’s talk,” Jensen says, sweeping his hands in a grand motion. “What do you want to know?”

“Um. I don’t know,” Jared says, wiping a hand over his eyes. “Maybe the, um. At the beginning?”

“Alright,” Jensen nods, looking resolute. Once he starts talking, it’s like the gates open up. “Well, I left after we had talked that night, to go swimming with Mark. I was real psyched to see the new place, he’d talked it up quite a bit and I was half-prepared to give him shit if it wasn’t as cool as he said.

“We, uh. We took his car, to the country club off the highway and we swam a bit. He wanted to swim longer but I wanted to get home. We hit the showers and got changed and shit and I. I think we were walking out the side door when someone got to us. Fucking chloroform or something, like some sixties crime movie. Didn’t even know that shit was still around.

“Anyway. So I got there- I woke up- and my first instinct was to get out of there. I fought. I kicked and yelled and fucking bit, but there were too many of them. I got the shit kicked out of me on the daily for about two weeks,” Jensen laughs, fingers running sheepishly over his hair, though there isn’t any real humor in it. “Two weeks and I kind of realized there wasn’t much of a point. I was going to be out in the fields sixteen, eighteen hours a day whether I fought it or not. The difference was whether I wanted to do it bruised to hell.”

Jared’s stomach turns over, a lump forming in his throat and making his breathing labored. The thought of anyone hurting Jensen, of Jensen hurting, makes him sick to his stomach and so angry he can barely see straight. He wants to pull Jensen to him, inspect him for any signs of damage, but Jensen got a clean bill of health from the doctor, save for weight loss and a few vitamin deficiencies, and Jensen is finally talking. He’s afraid if he says something, moves in the slightest, Jensen will clam up and he will never have the chance to hear this again. It’s difficult for both of them, but Jensen needs to say this and Jared needs to hear it, possibly in equal measures.

“I kind of realized that what I was doing wasn’t working,” Jensen continues, eyes fixed on his hands, which he unconsciously wrings in his lap. “So I decided I needed to try something else. If they wanted me to be submissive, I would be submissive. I’d be the best fucking worker they had, the one who never fought back, the one who always did as he was told. I needed them to trust me, you know? To think I was so little of a threat that they kind of looked the other way. I needed their attention on me the least amount possible, I needed them to let me slip through the cracks.”

The lump in Jared’s throat grows, morphing into something different entirely as pride swells in his chest. Jensen has always been smart, has always been so much more than just the pretty face so many people assume he is. He got out when so many other people couldn’t. He worked the system.

“And they, um. They knew about you.” Attention snapping back to Jensen, Jared furrows his brow in confusion.

“They knew about you,” Jensen repeats, eyes locking with Jared’s. “They knew I cared about you. They watched us, the two of us, for days. They were actually,” Jensen pauses, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. “They were actually planning on taking us both, but it didn’t work out that way.”

It’s a revelation, a few small words that pack a punch so unexpected Jared doesn’t have time to brace himself. A breathy laugh is forced from his lungs at the shock, but the words settle with a startling clarity. He was supposed to be with Jensen. He was supposed to go through this with him.

“I wish they had.” As soon as the words leave Jared’s mouth, he knows they were a mistake. The look on Jensen’s face says it all, eyes narrowing and igniting in a fury of fire, anger washing over every aspect of his being.

“Shut up,” he spits, leaning forward in his chair. “You don’t. I don’t. God, I had enough trouble keeping myself alive, the last thing I would have needed was to be worried about you every second of the day, about keeping you safe. I would have never wanted you to go through that, Jared. Never.”

“Sorry,” Jared murmurs, cheeks warmed a deep pink. “I wasn’t thinking, I shouldn’t have said-“

“Yeah,” Jensen sighs, pulling himself upright once more, only to slouch heavily against the back once more. “I’m not going to lie. Sometimes I wish you were there, too. But I’d never. Not really.”

“I know. I just wish I could have been there for you. Protected you.”

A heavy silence sets in as Jensen nods. He stares at his hands, wringing together in his lap, and Jared stares at him.

“I, um. I was friends with a couple of the guys,” Jensen starts again, eyes still fixated downwards, picking at his fingernail. “Mark. And this kid named Chris. Outta Dallas. We, uh. We weren’t really allowed to talk much with other people, but we kind of. We were talking about getting out.

“We used every spare second we were able to talk alone. Like we’d have conversations about one idea for days at a time, just in five second pieces here and there. We had a plan. We made a plan. We just had to wait for the right time.”

“How’d you know? That it was the right time, I mean.”

“I didn’t,” Jensen breathes, a soft laugh interlaced with his tone. When Jared glances up at him, though, the only thing sees the hint of awe in his eyes, like he’s still amazed it actually worked. 

“I just. They were talking. They were making these offhand comments about how they had people who were interested in me, people who would pay a lot of money for me. And I wasn’t about to become a sex slave. I thought about it, that maybe it would be easier to escape that way, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. I’d rather die.”

Jensen takes a moment to inhale deeply, and Jared feels like he may throw up. The idea of anyone hurting Jensen, of anyone reducing the smart, funny, amazing man in front of him into some sort of sick sex toy makes him want to die himself.

“But. I knew I had to get out of there, soon, and I wanted to leave so much that I. I knew it’d be worth it either way.”

“That what would be worth it?” Jared asks, eyes damp and fixated on Jensen.

“You,” Jensen smiles, risking a moment of fleeting eye contact. “Risking it. Coming home.”

Jared gives him a watery smile, glancing down. He appreciates the sentiment, but the idea that Jensen could have easily not made it out of that place terrifies him. He instantly feels a surge of compassion for the families of the workers who had been killed, for the families that found out their loved ones hadn’t been dead after all, but were now.

“So we managed this great escape, I guess. Crawled through the fields with potato sacks tied to us so we wouldn’t get too scraped up. We managed to get to this rickety gas station in the middle of nowhere, me, Mark, and Chris and somehow. Somehow we made it home.” Jensen says the last part with heavy awe, like he’s still amazed it can be true.

“Thank you,” Jared says, causing Jensen to look up in confusion.

“For what?”

“For risking it. For coming back,” Jared smiles. “For telling me.”

“Yeah,” Jensen nods, like none of those things are valid things to be thanked for. “Of course.”

“A+,” Jared grins, once more drawing a questioning look. “On your homework.”

“Thanks,” Jensen smiles, hand skimming the back of his neck. “There, um. There is actually one more thing. It was stupid, but I think. I think you should know about it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I um. It’s just. Mark kind of, um. Kind of kissed me. Once.”

Jared feels like he has been punched in the gut. “What?”

“It was stupid. He kissed me and I pushed him away immediately,” Jensen exclaims, eyes wide. “I got mad at him. Like really mad. And he knew, after that. Knew that wasn’t cool.”

A million things go through Jared’s head, from anger to jealousy to complete disbelief at the ridiculous turn his life has taken lately.

“Jay, say something.”

“What do you want me to say?” Jared laughs helplessly, though there’s no humor in it. 

“Anything.”

“I told you he liked you, Jensen,” Jared snaps, because Jensen is the nearest available target. He was mourning his boyfriend while Jensen was off kissing other guys. And maybe that’s not fair, most certainly isn’t, but right now, that’s all he can see.

“I know,” Jensen says, palms held up in surrender. “You did. I should have listened. I’m sorry.”

“Damn right you should’ve,” Jared grumbles, though his heart isn’t really in it.

“If it helps, I was really pissed,” Jensen says tentatively, like he’s afraid Jensen might snap. “He knows now how it is.”

“And how is it?”

“Me and you,” Jensen says with such casualness it makes Jared’s heart ache. There’s such an earnest honesty in those words, like Jensen has never questioned it, and Jared feels his anger start to melt away. “Me and you, like always.”

Jared nods, licking his lips.

“So are you mad?”

“No,” Jared responds honestly, managing a small smile for his boyfriend. “Not at you.”

And it’s true, even though he’s itching to punch Mark’s face in.

___________________________

This complicates matters when, after Jensen’s session with Theresa Tuesday, Jensen tells him Mark is coming over that night.

“For dinner,” Jensen says, distractedly shuffling through the CD’s in the middle console of Jared’s car.

“Mark,” Jared repeats flatly, staring straight ahead.

“Yeah,” Jensen nods. “Theresa thinks it’s a good idea.”

Theresa’s wrong. “Oh.”

“Are you okay with this?”

No. “I guess,” Jared shrugs, eyes firmly fixated on the road.

He is pretty far from okay with this, but after the tentative truce he and Jensen have formed, the last thing he wants to do is start another fight. Plus, Theresa thinks it’s a good idea, and it probably is, to visit with someone who knows exactly what he went through. He doesn’t want to seem like the controlling boyfriend hindering Jensen’s progress or something.

“Cool,” Jensen says, conversation over.

___________________________

“Jared, you have to tell me if you’re not okay with this,” Jensen says, watching Jared fidget and pace around Jensen’s bedroom.

“I’m okay with this,” Jared says, absent-mindedly tightening and untightening a loose knob on Jensen’s dresser.

“You don’t look okay with this.”

“I am.”

“Then why are you leaving?” Jensen asks, pointedly looking at the keys Jared has picked up from the dresser.

“I’m not leaving. I’m just going to get some things from the apartment.”

“Will you be back for dinner?”

“Should be,” Jared lies. He’s planning on some brilliant excuse to keep him out of the house for approximately six hours, he just hasn’t decided on what that will be.

“And if you’re not?”

“Start without me.”

“Jared-” 

“Hey, I just need to get some things,” Jared says, wishing it sounded less like pleading. “I’ll be back.”

Jensen stares at him for a moment, pursing his lips. “Okay.”

Jared feels more relieved than he should. “Awesome. Do you need anything?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, well I’ll see you. Soon.”

“Alright.”

Jared is half way to the apartment when he gets the text from Mackenzie: if you let him go ur an idiot.

___________________________

Jared is snuggly barrowed under the covers at the apartment when he hears the door open. He nearly pees himself before catching a glance of Jensen making his way toward him.

“Hey,” Jensen greets, leaning in the doorway.

“Hi,” Jared mumbles, feeling pathetic wrapped an entire bed’s worth of blankets. “What are you doing here?”

“Mac dropped me off. Gave me a speech about what idiots we are.”

Jared winces. “Yeah, I think she already gave me the Cliff Notes.”

“Sparknotes, Jay,” Jensen says, making his way into the room to sit on his side of the bed. “No one uses Cliff Notes anymore.”

Jared hums in acknowledgement, eyes fixed on the blanket. 

“What about your dinner date?” he asks, not so subtly.

Jensen snorts. “I’m assuming you’re using the term ‘dinner date’ very loosely, here. And I canceled.”

“Why?”

“Because you were obviously uncomfortable with it. And I kind of wanted you there.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re supposed to be there, Jared,” Jensen snaps. “You’re supposed to swallow your fucking pride and realize that nothing fucking happened and move on.”

And suddenly Jared is really mad. “My pride? What about you? You shut me out for days on end just because you’re afraid to talk to me about shit that you know I won’t judge you on-”

Jensen scoffs. “Yeah, because you’re doing such an awesome job of that right now.”

“I’m not judging!” Jared exclaims. “All’s I’m saying is next time maybe don’t drop that little bomb that you kissed someone and then invite him to dinner two days later and expect me to be okay with it!”

“First off, he kissed me,” Jensen yells, a fire in his eyes. “And I was pissed as hell. You know why? Because I might have died there and Mark was going to be the last person I kissed and not you. And call me a girl, but that was really, really not cool with me.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, good.”

Jared inhales, trying to regain his composure. “I just don’t understand why you shut me out.”

Jensen laughs, though it’s a cold sound. “Yeah, you wouldn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t think, Jay. You don’t listen?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Uh huh.”

“What? What is one thing I haven’t listened to you about? Tell me one thing.”

“Maybe about how I killed six people,” Jensen says, an edge of hysteria to his voice. “How about that, huh?”

And that. What? “What? Jensen, what are you talking about?”

“The fight that broke out, after I left? That’s on me. That was because of me.”

“No,” Jared shakes his head, stunned. “Jensen, you can’t think-”

“It was my fault,” Jensen continues, tears in his eyes. “If I hadn’t left, none of that would have happened.”

“Jensen,” Jared starts, but Jensen just shakes his head and looks away. And that’s not okay, because he can’t just let Jensen go on thinking he’s killed someone. “Hey, no. That’s not your fault, Jensen. It was bound to happen eventually. Someone was bound to escape and they were going to react, were going to do what they did regardless. It’s not your fault.”

“It didn’t happen eventually, Jared. It happened after I left.”

“And thank god for that,” Jared says, earning a look from Jensen like he just slapped him across the face. “I’m glad you got out, Jensen. And you saved a lot of people in the process. Freed a lot of people. Those people, they made the choice to do what they did, to kill people, and they could have made that choice at any time. They could have hurt you. And I’m not sorry. I’m not going to be sorry for you living, for you coming back. I won’t.”

Jensen is quiet, like he doesn’t know what to say, and Jared watches him, his heart twisting painfully in his chest.

“You know, maybe you need some time on your own,” Jared begins, though the words hurt enough to kill him. “Maybe you need some time away from me to figure things out.”

“Are you. Are you breaking up with me?” Jensen asks, shock and bewilderment evident in every aspect of his being.

“No,” Jared says automatically, though it feels like it. “I just. I just want you to be happy, Jensen. And you’re not happy right now and I. If it would help, to be on your own for a while, then okay.”

Jensen stares at him for a long moment, eyes tear-slicken and full of pain.

“You’re breaking up with me.”

Jared’s chest hurts so much he feels like he might explode. “No, I. I don’t want to. That’s the last thing I want. I just want you to be happy.”

Jared slinks back down into the bed, lying flat with all his energy fully drained. He feels Jensen’s eyes on him, unwaivering, as he lies down next to him.

When Jared dares to look, Jensen looks eyes with him, so intense he can’t look away.

“I just want you to be happy,” Jared repeats, his voice whisper-thin but heavy with emotion.

The corner of Jensen’s lip quirks up in a small smile. “You make me happy.”

It’s then that Jared knows without a doubt there’s no walking away from this. As if he ever could.

___________________________

When Jared opens his eyes, light floods the room and the alarm clock is flashing 4:09. Jared is confused for a moment before he realizes the light is coming from Jensen’s nightstand, and Jensen is propped up on his elbow staring at him.

“Hey,” Jared says, glancing at Jensen. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Jensen murmurs, licking his lips. His fingers trail across the sheets to land on Jared’s arm, body leaning close to him until he’s inches from his face. There’s a questioning look in his eyes before he closes the distance, meeting Jared’s lips with a soft and tentative kiss. 

Jensen pulls back nearly immediately. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, Jen, I,” Jared stutters, trying to catch up. “Look, you don’t have to-”

“I know,” Jensen interrupts, voice firm, intense. “I know.”

He leans back in for another kiss and Jared deepens it on instinct, starving for it. Jensen’s fingers come up to tangle in his hair, trailing down to cup his jaw. Jared’s hands reach to find their own purchase, skimming along Jensen’s hips, up beneath his tee shirt to find an expanse of skin, warm and indisputable.

It feels surreal, all of this, especially when Jensen rolls on top of him, wriggling to find a comfortable position. They’re still kissing, full on making out, and as much as Jared tells himself to take it slow, he can’t. Not while Jensen is setting the pace, quick and brutal, and skating his hips against his own, building a brutal friction.

“Jen, I-”

“I gotcha,” Jensen says, blindly flinging a hand in the direction of the nightstand. One hand flings open the drawer and digs while the other skims beneath Jared’s jaw, not letting the kiss slip.

“Got it,” Jensen mutters, setting his finds on the bed while he makes quick work of Jared’s jeans. He breaks the kiss for the first time, struggling to pull his own down as he fumbles for the lube he’d retrieved from the drawer.

Jared closes his eyes, unable to believe this is about to happen after those months where he thought he never would again. “Jen. I. Oh god.”

“Shh, I got you, babe,” Jensen whispers, fingers reaching down to meet Jared. Jared gasps at the contact, eyes blown wide as they meet Jensen’s. Jensen smiles and reaches down to kiss him again, open and dirty, as he works him open.

“Oh fuck,” Jared curses, squirming under Jensen’s weight. He feels Jensen smile against his lips, pulling back to make eye contact as he slowly starts to slide in.

“Shit,” Jensen laughs.

“Yeah,” Jared pants, smiling as Jensen slides down to cage him between his two arms. It’s good, almost too good, and they alternate between staring into each other’s eyes and kissing, deep and messy.

The moment is so surreal that Jared can barely feel his own orgasm approaching, so full of love for Jensen he thinks his chest may actually explode. It takes him by surprise, hitting him so hard he cries out.

“Shh,” Jensen sooths, resting his forehead against Jared’s as his thrusts become sloppy and erratic. He follows Jared seconds later, the fingers of his right hand tangled with Jared’s as the left slides over Jared’s cheek.

“Ah, shit,” Jensen gasps, collapsing on top of Jared. “Oh, fuck.”

Jared hums in agreement, palm sliding over his boyfriend’s spine, skipping vertebrae.

They stay like that for a while before parting, sliding beneath the covers once more. Jared spoons himself against Jensen’s back and snakes an arm around his waist, holding him tight.

Just when Jared thinks Jensen is asleep, he hears him whisper, “Don’t leave me.”

Jared tightens his grip just that much more.

___________________________

That morning, Jared awakens to find Jensen rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, clad in a pair of Jared’s sweats.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Jensen smiles, shooting a glance over his shoulder. “We have like, legitimately no food.”

“Yeah,” Jared nods. “My mom came over and cleaned out the fridge. You know. After.”

“Ah,” Jensen says, pulling his arm out of the cabinet. “Well. We have one thing of Ramen, one tub of Crisco, and three cans of cat food.”

“Sounds like delicacies are about to be had all around.”

“Yeah. Hey, where’s Deb?” Jensen asks, wiping his palms on the fronts of his legs.

“At my mom’s,” Jared answers, leaning against the counter. “I could have her bring her over later. I’m sure she would love the chance to cry all over you.”

“Most people do,” Jensen smiles, coming to lean next to Jared, so close their shoulders touch.

“I was thinking of seeing someone,” Jared says after a moment. “Like Theresa said.”

“I think that would be good,” Jensen smiles, pure encouragement.

“I think so, too.”

“We’re pretty fucked up,” Jensen says. Jared snorts.

“We’ll be okay.” And this time, Jared believes it.

___________________________

It's a good five weeks before Jensen brings up wanting to go swimming.

It catches Jared by surprise, though it really shouldn't. Jensen was brought up in the water, much like Jared was, by a father who held his own case of trophies in the sport and who brought his son up to be twice the athlete and twice the man he ever hoped to be. Cabin fever is weighing heavily on Jensen, Jared knows that much for sure, and Jared can see the longing in Jensen's eyes, the nervous twitch his muscles get when he goes too long without swimming.

“I don't think so,” Jared says lamely, trying to pass off his aversion to the water as an off mood rather than an irrational phobia.

“Why not?” Jensen asks, looking so disappointed Jared nearly takes it back.

“I don't know, man,” Jared shrugs. “Just not really into it anymore.”

“Not into it?” Jensen repeats, eyes comically wide and voice dripping in disbelief. “How are you not into it anymore?” You've spent the last nineteen years of your life in the pool and now you're not into it anymore?”

“I don't know, man. What can I say? Just kind of over it.”

Jensen has never been one to believe Jared's shit, always seeing past the illusion and into Jared's true reasons. And Jared, well. Jared has always been shit at lying to Jensen. The combination is lethal.

“Does this have to do with...” Jensen trails off, gesturing vaguely in the air.

“With...?”

“You know, man,” Jensen says, hands waving in the air. “The accident. That night.”

“No,” Jared says, answering a bit too quickly.

Staring at him for a moment, Jensen nods. “Uh huh.”

“It doesn't.”

“Alright. It doesn't,” Jensen agrees, sounding less than convinced. “Let's go, then, Jay. It'll be fun.”

The idea of it sends the acid in Jared's stomach curdling. “No, I don't think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because, man.”

“Seriously, Jay. Let's go.”

“I'm not going.”

__________________________________

Somehow, Jared ends up going.

He walks carefully along the side of the pool, staring at the water like it's a death trap ready to strike at any moment. He holds his breath and feels like throwing up when Jensen finally steps into the water, gliding through it like it's air on land.

Jensen didn't drown, Jared tries to remind himself, though it doesn't help much. Jensen's fine. You're fine. Everything's...

“C'mon, Jay,” Jensen coaxes, smiling at him encouragingly from where he's floating. Jared shakes his head, heart racing.

“No.”

“Come on, man. You've got to.”

“I don't have to do anything.”

Jensen stops floating, planting his feet on the bottom of the pool. “You can't let them win, Jay.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know. They took me away and they took swimming away and god knows that's the two things in life that make you the happiest,” Jensen says, and Jared wants to hate him a little for knowing that, but he can't. Because he's right.

“Yeah, but-”

“Come on,” Jensen continues, propelling himself back in the water. “Water's fine.”

Jared chuckles at that, swallowing hard as he approaches the edge of the pool. Jensen is right, as much as Jared hates it. 

He wades into the water, greeted by an armful of his boyfriend and a breathless kiss.

In the end, it all comes down to Jensen.


End file.
